


Confidant Roulette

by vivvav



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Gen, The AFR Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivvav/pseuds/vivvav
Summary: Ren gets sick and can't keep his appointments with all of his confidants. The rest of the Phantom Thieves decide to fill in for him.





	1. Diagnosis: Unhelpful

Ren couldn’t afford to be sick. Ever since coming to Tokyo, his life had been a constantly-growing list of responsibilities to live up to. Even with his name cleared and the Phantom Thieves’ activities long behind him, he had a lot of commitments besides school. He had made a lot of friends throughout the city, people who needed his help with their problems and goals. Busy as his life was, illness was simply something Ren could not accommodate.

Shame nobody had told the germs that.

It wasn’t the back pain from all the coughing that kept Ren from rising out of bed, nor was it the exhausted lungs or the lightheadedness. It was the slender hand making contact with his forehead, pushing him back down towards the pillow in a gentle-yet-firm fashion.

“Oh no you don’t!” Makoto stood over her disease-wracked boyfriend wearing a surgical mask, exasperation in her eyes. When she got an emergency call from Futaba frantically screaming Ren had his “health in the red and was out of continues”, she hadn’t expected Ren to be the one who’d be causing her the most trouble. They had just gotten back from the clinic, and after forcing him into bed, she had gone downstairs to the cafe to fetch him some tea. She wasn’t even down there a minute before Morgana called for her from upstairs. Ren weakly protested against Makoto’s treatment. “Futaba, you’re supposed to be keeping an eye on him!”

“And touch him like you are!?” The bespectacled redhead crouched on the desk chair, also wearing a surgical mask. “No way I’m making contact with that! I don’t wanna catch his status ailment!”

“It’s fine if you just wash your hands after! That’s why we bought all that hand sanitizer!”

“Oh. Right.” Futaba hopped off the chair and walked over to Ren's bed. She held down one of his ankles with both hands. “I am now helping!” Ren weakly moved his free leg.

“I have to-“

“Get some rest and move as little as possible, just like Dr. Takemi said!” Half of Makoto’s energy was dedicated to keeping Ren still. The other half was dedicated to tempering her own commanding and intimidating nature. While channeling Queen was a great way to get people to do what she wanted, she feared in Ren's present condition a jolt of fear would only make things worse. “Bronchitis isn’t something you can just walk off, Ren!”

“Listen to her, Joker!” Morgana was sitting on top of the bookshelf, surveying the situation from above. “You’re gonna be benched for a week. Trying to fight this will only aggravate your condition!”

“But I… *cough* made promises!” Ren's words were heavily labored. “Friends… *cough* counting on me!”

“It’s okay, Ren.” Makoto sat down at the edge of the bed. Her hand remained on Ren's forehead, both to restrain him and to try and comfort him. “We’ll all understand if you can’t spend time with us for a few days. I’m sure Ryuji and Ann will get along just fine without you.”

“Not you, I mean-“ Ren was cut by a flood of violent coughing.

“Speaking only makes it worse. Let your throat rest, Ren.” Makoto looked up to Morgana. “What is he so worked up about?”

“Probably his confidants.”

“His what?”

“You know”, Futaba had returned to the desk, “All those NPCs he hangs out with. Scary weapons guy, that politician at the train station, that goth doctor we just saw. Those people.”

“I see.” Makoto looked back down at Ren, his face absolutely miserable. “And I’m assuming that being your usual helpful self, you’ve made commitments to a good many of them, yes?”

Ren nodded and pointed to the desk. His phone was sitting on the surface. Futaba picked it up and chucked it at him. Makoto managed to snatch it from the air right before it collided with Ren's face. She gave Futaba a glare that immediately made the smaller girl look up to Morgana with eyes pleading for help. Ren didn’t seem to notice the silent conversation playing out before him, nor did he notice Morgana’s sad expression telling Futaba he had no aid to give in this situation. He was opening the calendar app on his phone. He handed it back to Makoto. She looked through his weekly schedule. There was something written on every day except this one.

“Do you really have a commitment every single day!?” Makoto was both very proud of Ren and very annoyed with him. She loved how giving he was, but just wished that sometimes he’d be a bit more selfish. If anybody knew the stresses of having an overbearing schedule, Makoto did, but unlike her, Ren hadn’t been groomed to deal with it for his entire life. Running himself ragged like this probably weakened his body enough for him to get sick in the first place. “I’m sorry Ren, but there’s no way you’re making these appointments. I’m sure your ‘confidants’ will understand.”

Ren grabbed the phone from Makoto and started tapping at it rapidly. He held the screen to her, showing a message he had typed.

> But they need my help!

“You can’t stop him, Makoto. The help train has no brakes!” Futaba watched Ren and Makoto to see how her joke had landed. Ren looked back at her with concern. Makoto had her back turned to Futaba, but her body was very stiff.

“Futaba…” Makoto’s tone was calm, but it felt like all the air in the room had grown denser. “Would you do me a favor and go fetch that tea I got interrupted from making?”

“‘Kay!” Futaba bolted out of the room. That was the second time she’d stoked Makoto’s ire. She didn’t want to know what would happen at strike three.

“Now, about this schedule of yours…” Makoto’s mood returned from intimidating to nurturing. “It’s very important to you that these people receive help, isn’t it?”

Ren nodded.

“Very well then. I suppose I’ll just have to fill in for you.”

Ren shook his head and typed on his phone again.

> You already missed one college class because of me today. I don’t want you getting distracted.

“I’ve told you before, my classes aren’t as important as-“

Makoto was cut off by Ren wagging his finger in her face. With the other hand, he typed another message.

> This isn’t a crisis, Makoto. My sickness is temporary. Your goals are long term. You have to go to school.

“He’s right, you know.” Morgana hopped down from the bookshelf, landing at the edge of the bed, taking care not to drop onto Ren himself. “You don’t have to put your own life on hold worrying about Joker. He’s got plenty of people who can look out for him.”

“That’s it!” Makoto whipped out her own phone and began typing away on it.

“Huh?” Morgana looked at Ren, confused. Ren shrugged.

“Ren, give me your phone.” Makoto held out her hand. Ren typed something on his phone quickly and handed it to her. She looked at the message.

> What are you up to?

“I can’t handle all of your appointments on my own, but I’m sure the others would be more than happy to assist!”

Ren shook his head and held out his hand, but Makoto wasn’t looking at him.

“I think he wants his phone back" Morgana said.

“One moment.” Makoto took a screenshot of Ren's schedule on his phone and sent the image to herself. She handed Ren back his phone. He noticed that the group chat was already active.

> Makoto: Ren needs our help.
> 
> Ryuji: So why ain’t he tellin’ us that?
> 
> Haru: Oh my goodness! He wasn’t in some manner of accident, was he?
> 
> Makoto: No, he just has bronchitis. He’ll recover in about a week, but he’s stuck in bed until then.
> 
> Ann: I had that when I was a little girl. Is he coughing up a lot of phlegm?
> 
> Futaba: Yeah, he’s like some kind of alien slime monster!  ～ ( ＞＜ ) ～
> 
> Yusuke: How unpleasant.
> 
> Makoto: Don’t listen to her. Also, you’re supposed to be getting tea, Futaba.
> 
> Futaba: I am! Water takes time to boil!  ＼ (º  □ º l|l)/
> 
> Yusuke: We are getting sidetracked. How may we be of assistance? 
> 
> Makoto: Ren has promised to help a number of people over the coming week. He won’t be able to make these appointments, so I was hoping everybody could help cover for him.
> 
> Ren: No need.
> 
> Ryuji: There he is!
> 
> Ann: How are you feeling, Ren?
> 
> Ren: Like there’s a spiderweb in my chest every time I breathe. But you guys don’t have to worry about me. It’s not a big deal. I can just cancel.
> 
> Futaba: LOL. Don’t lie, Ren. If you had put up any more of a fight Makoto would’ve had to handcuff you to the bed. ( ￢ ‿ ￢ )
> 
> Haru: These appointments sound urgent.
> 
> Ren: I mean it. You guys don’t have to trouble yourselves for me.
> 
> Ryuji: Dude, it’s no trouble.
> 
> Ann: Yeah! Besides, I’ve always wanted to meet some of these people you tell us about.
> 
> Makoto: Then it’s settled. Ren has six appointments this week, so each of us will take care of one.
> 
> Ren: I’m not gonna be able to talk you all out of this, am I?
> 
> Ryuji: Nope.
> 
> Ann: No.
> 
> Futaba: ( ☆ ω ☆ )
> 
> Yusuke: It seems not.
> 
> Haru: You’ll just have to accept our help, Ren-Kun!

“Hey! What about me?”

Makoto and Ren looked up from their phones to a grumpy Morgana. He had been reading the conversation on Ren's phone.

“I want to help too, you know! Just because I haven’t figured out how to become human yet doesn’t mean I’m going to let you all leave me out of everything!”

“You have the most important job of all, Morgana.” Makoto pointed to Ren. “Making sure this one stays in bed and gets his rest.”

“Can do!”

Ren rolled his eyes. This week was going to be a disaster.


	2. The Art of Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yusuke fills in for Ren for one of Dr. Takemi's drug trials.

 

> Ryuji: So what’s all the different stuff that needs to be done?
> 
> Makoto: Well, first on Ren's schedule is “Help Dr. Takemi” tomorrow.
> 
> Yusuke: Perhaps I should go. It has been some time since I have been to a doctor’s office.
> 
> Ren: That’s not a good idea.
> 
> Ann: I’m almost afraid to ask… How long?
> 
> Yusuke: I believe the last time was about four months before Madarame’s arrest.
> 
> Ryuji: Dude! That was over a year ago!
> 
> Futaba: ( ⊙ _ ⊙ )
> 
> Haru: You simply must take better care of yourself, Yusuke-Kun!
> 
> Yusuke: Since becoming solely responsible for my own wellbeing, I have not been able to afford trips to the doctor’s office.
> 
> Ann: What about all of those art contests you keep winning?
> 
> Yusuke: The proceeds go to furthering my craft. Art begets art, after all.
> 
> Ryuji: Yeah dude, you should definitely be the one to do this doctor thing. Even I make time for regular check-ups.
> 
> Ren: Don’t go, Yusuke.
> 
> Haru: Ren-Kun, how can you say that? Don’t you want Yusuke-Kun to be healthy?
> 
> Makoto: I thought we were past these protests, Ren.
> 
> Ren: It’s not that. What I help with at Dr. Takemi’s clinic isn’t really normal.
> 
> Ryuji: What, do you do some kinda weird drug experiments?
> 
> Ren: Basically.

“What!?”

Ren looked up from his phone. He’d never seen Makoto gawk before. Even in her surprised moments she tended to keep her dignity about her. But her jaw had completely dropped. Seeing such a dumbfounded and undignified expression on her face looked incredibly unnatural. Ren's phone beeped, and he returned his attention to the chat.

> Ryuji: Are you serious!?
> 
> Ren: How do you think I got all that medicine for our adventures? Doctors don’t just give out pills like candy to every shady high-schooler that comes through their door.

“I can’t believe you never told me about this!” 

> Ren: Calm down, Makoto.
> 
> Ryuji: Makoto didn’t say anything, dude.
> 
> Ann: She’s in the room with him, Ryuji. 
> 
> Ryuji: Oh.

“We are talking about this later!”

> Yusuke: Ren, am I to understand that these drug tests are dangerous?
> 
> Ren: No, it’s all legitimate medical research. The side effects can just be strong sometimes, so I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to head in there.
> 
> Yusuke: I shall endure it. Besides, if there’s a chance that the side-effects can be of a hallucinatory nature, I am eager to experience them.
> 
> Haru: That sounds suspicious.
> 
> Ryuji: Yeah man, are you some kinda stoner or something?
> 
> Futaba: Pothead Inari… It would explain a thing or two. ┐( ￣∀￣ )┌
> 
> Yusuke: You all know I would never be able to afford illegal drugs. But as an artist I feel I owe it to myself to at least once see where my mind goes when it is totally unrestrained.
> 
> Ren: It’s not as fun as you think.

“I changed my mind! We are talking about this _now!_ ”

> Futaba: Yikes. I can hear that from down here. (;;;*_*)
> 
> Ryuji: Hear what?
> 
> Haru: I believe Ren-Kun and Mako-Chan are having an entirely separate conversation right now.
> 
> Ann: We should probably table the rest of this for tomorrow.
> 
> Futaba: Yeah. Mona just joined me down here. Ren, you don’t really need this tea, right? I’m headed home kbai.  ٩ ( ◕ ‿ ◕｡ ) ۶

* * *

When Yusuke arrived in Yongen-Jaya the next day, he instinctually made his way towards LeBlanc. It wasn’t until he neared the cafe’s door that he remembered the real reason he had come to Ren's neighborhood. As much as he would have liked to have had a quick cup of coffee and look at Sayuri, he knew that his mission was time-sensitive, and Ren was counting on him to keep up his reputation of reliability. Determined not to fail his friend, Yusuke forced himself away from the inviting scent of freshly-roasted coffee lingering in the air outside of the cafe and headed for the Takemi Medical Clinic.

When Yusuke entered, he found the waiting room empty, save for a young woman with dyed hair and punkish clothes wearing a lab coat on top of her outfit. If it weren’t for the coat, she’d look more at place in a nightclub than a doctor’s office.

_“She must be some manner of intern. Dr. Takemi certainly keeps an open mind when hiring her staff.”_

“Pardon me,” Yusuke walked up to the desk. “Is Dr. Takemi in at the moment?”

“You’re talking to her.” She didn’t even look up from her magazine.

“Truly? You’re not quite what I imagined.”

“I get that a lot.” She gave a slight glance at Yusuke, just barely raising her eyes from her magazine. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. I appreciate your bold style. I can imagine why Ren speaks so highly of you.”

“Ah.” Takemi put down the magazine and gave Yusuke a sly smile. “So _you’re_ the replacement guinea pig I was told to expect.”

“‘Guinea pig?’” Yusuke had been called a lot of things before, but never that. He wasn’t certain if he should be charmed or frightened.

“That’s what I call your friend.” The doctor sighed and shook her head. “Poor little thing. Makes it through an entire year’s worth of clinical trials, only to come down with a totally unrelated debilitating illness. It was so considerate of him to send you in his place. Kitagawa, right?”

“Yes. My name is Yusuke Kitagawa. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Dr. Tae Takemi.” She moved her eyes up and down, scanning Yusuke. “You seem like an adequate test subject. Please head to the exam room.”

Yusuke passed through the door into the main office. Takemi took measure of his height and weight and asked him his age.

“Is this all part of the check-up?” Yusuke asked, sitting on the examining table.

“This is all important data for my testing” Takemi replied. She sat down in her chair and leaned back, looking over her clipboard with one hand. It was a very glamorous pose, and Yusuke couldn’t help but admire how she made it look so effortless. The way her long legs stuck out with those high-heeled pumps at the end reminded him of a pin-up model. It occurred to him that if you couldn’t see her unusual punk aesthetic, the way she positioned herself would make for a striking portrait, maybe something along the lines of pop art. Perhaps if captured in silhouette…

She didn’t hold the position for long, but it was just long enough for Yusuke to burn it into his memory. He wanted to use this visual for inspiration later. She placed her feet back on the ground and turned to the young artist.

“So, how much has my guinea pig told you about these tests?”

“I understand that you are developing new pharmaceuticals to treat rare illnesses. Ren has told me that these prototypical medicines usually come with varying side-effects, and that you tend to keep him in your office for several hours at a time for observation.”

“Sounds like you know what you’re getting into.” Takemi raised an eyebrow. “And you still came, knowing you may be sitting still for several hours?”

“I am an artist. I am accustomed to staying in one place for long periods of time.”

“Really? That presents some new opportunities…” Takemi swiveled around in her chair and opened a drawer in her desk. She rooted through it for a few moments and pulled out a notepad and stopwatch. She grabbed a pencil from the top of her desk and handed it and the notepad to Yusuke. “Please draw something.”

“Happily.” Yusuke accepted the items. “Is there anything in particular you would like me to draw?”

“Something simple. This is a new experiment. The drug I want to test today may cause lightheadedness, fatigue, and possibly even dull your motor skills a bit. I’d like you to draw something now, and then draw the exact same thing a few minutes after ingesting the drug to see if there are any differences.” She held up the stopwatch. “I’ll be timing you, so take a moment to decide what you want to draw, then let me know when you’re ready.”

“Very well.” Yusuke looked around the office for a moment, taking in the scenery. He looked back at Takemi. “I have decided.”

“Alright. Go.” She pressed the start button on the stopwatch and observed Yusuke. He began scribbling and kept his eyes on the notepad the entire time. Once or twice he made quick use of the eraser, but for the most part he drew at lightning speed, focused and confident. After what felt like a couple minutes, he moved the pencil away from the notepad and looked up at Takemi. “I am finished.”

“Ok.” She stopped the timer, taking a look. “One minute and thirty-seven seconds. Show me what you drew.” Yusuke tore the page he was drawing on from the notebook and handed it to her. It was a drawing of her, from the shoulders up. It was drawn with a fair amount of detail, certainly not photorealistic, but with more skill than a simple doodle. She smirked when she noticed that the drawing had a coquettish expression on her face, a “come-hither” look in the eyes. “This is a bit suggestive, isn’t it? Tell me, is that artistic license, or the manifestation of teenage desire?”

“I was attempting to capture your essence.” Yusuke looked Takemi directly in the eyes. The boy had a hard face to read, but he seemed a bit sorrowful. “I hope I did not cause offense.”

“It’s fine. You wouldn’t be the first patient to make an advance towards me.” Yusuke was about to protest, but the amused expression on her face told him she was teasing him. She looked at the picture again. Yusuke had difficulty telling what she was thinking, but he felt like his portrayal of her was an accurate one. In another life, Dr. Takemi could’ve been a femme fatale in one of those old American movies. “My ‘essence’, huh?” She snickered and got out of her chair. Her heels clacked until she stopped in front of a small refrigerator and pulled out a cup of thick red liquid and a small water bottle. She walked back over to Yusuke and handed him both. 

“This is the drug we’re testing today. Make sure to drink all of it. And it’s going to taste terrible, so here’s something to wash it down with.”

Yusuke nodded and tipped back his head without hesitation and sucked down the entire container of red medicine. His face immediately scrunched up and his eyes started to water.

“You okay there?” Takemi started writing down notes regarding Yusuke’s reaction. He remained silent as he scrambled to break open the seal on the water bottle and down all of its contents as quickly as he could.

“The aftertaste is horrendous!” Yusuke got up from the table, ran over to the sink, and started refilling the water bottle. “How can something meant to benefit the human body be so repulsive!?” The second the bottle was full he chugged its contents and went to refill it again.

“That’s just how medicine is.” Takemi looked up from her clipboard to Yusuke, who was on his third bottle of water. “Tell me, are you feeling particularly thirsty, or is this all just trying to wash away the taste?”

“The latter” Yusuke answered. He filled the bottle again. “So far I have noticed no change in myself save for the miserable state my tongue is in.”

“Good. Dehydration would be an odd side effect for this formula.”

“How long will it take before I start feeling side effects?” Yusuke persisted in putting away as much water as he could.

“It varies depending on body type. For a young man with your height, it may take a bit longer than-“

Takemi was cut off by the sound of something hitting the floor. Yusuke had dropped his water bottle and was holding his hand against his forehead. He looked down at the water pooling on the floor.

“My apologies. I’ll clean that up immediately. Do you have a towel?”

“Never mind that. Are you feeling lightheaded?”

“A bit, yes.”

“You should sit down.”

“Of course.” Yusuke slowly made his way over to the exam table. He stopped in front of it, about to climb onto it, then fell over.

* * *

Yusuke opened his eyes. He was looking straight up at the ceiling lights of the doctor’s office. From the feel of things, he was back on the padded exam table. He groaned as he tried to sit up, still feeling a little dizzy.

“Hm?” Takemi was watering a miniature cactus on her desk. She spun around in her chair, grabbing her clipboard. “Are you awake?”

“I believe so.” Yusuke’s vision was a bit blurry, so he blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. 

“And how are you feeling?”

“As if waking from a restless sleep.”

“So a bit groggy?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else? Lightheaded? Any physical weakness or soreness? Dulled senses?”

“I do not believe so.”

“Do you remember that drawing of me you did earlier?”

“Yes.”

“Do it again.” Takemi handed Yusuke the notepad and pencil, and picked up her stopwatch.

Yusuke began drawing. He was still quick, but not as much as the first time. He seemed to have some trouble focusing. It took him a bit longer than the first time, and when he handed the finished drawing to her, it was notably sloppier.

“Hm…” She looked at the picture for a moment. “Well, it’s an improvement over the last attempt.”

“I beg your pardon?” Yusuke knew that art was subjective, but even the most unrefined layman could tell the difference between his first sketch and this one. It was by no means terrible, but he had hardly put his best effort into it. He just couldn’t seem to muster that kind of energy at the moment. Perhaps it was her punk-rock tastes that made her prefer the rougher illustration?

“Don’t get so touchy. I know you artists tend to be sensitive, but unless this is supposed to be an abstract piece, I don’t think you should take a lot of pride in it.” Takemi handed Yusuke a piece of paper. It was covered in terrible scribbles that barely looked like they were even trying to represent a human being. It was as if a pre-schooler had drawn it.

“I fear you are confused. I did not draw this.” Yusuke considered making some retort about it being a doctor’s signature, but thought better. Everything about Dr. Takemi was unexpected of a medical professional. It occurred to Yusuke that this behavior may extend to the hippocratic oath as well.

“Fascinating.” She began writing on her clipboard. “What’s the last thing you remember before waking up?”

“I fell down, of course.”

“That doesn’t narrow things down. What do you remember before that?”

“I was trying to wash the taste of that foul concoction of yours out of my mouth.”

“Really?” Takemi looked at her notes. “The effects shouldn’t be this strong. There must be something wrong with your body.”

“What does that mean?” Yusuke’s belligerence was replaced with fear. “Do I have some manner of illness!?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen.”

“I must alert the others of this at once!” Yusuke pulled out his phone. He was shocked to see the time. He had entered the Clinic around four in the afternoon, and now it was about half past five. “Have I been asleep for an hour and a half!?”

“No, just an hour.”

“What?”

“I think you should look at this.” Takemi removed a piece of paper from her clipboard and handed it to Yusuke. The top read “Observation Log.”

> _ 4:03 - Subject ingests the sample. Displays expected reaction to taste. _
> 
> _ 4:04 - Subject has been drinking large quantities of water. Denies feeling dehydration, states it’s to wash taste out of mouth. _
> 
> _ 4:05 - Subject displays signs of fatigue: Drops held object and declares lightheadedness, but remains lucid. Subject soon after falls over. _
> 
> _ 4:06 - Subject rising from floor with difficulty. Claims to have trouble moving his body. _
> 
> _ 4:07 - Subject attempts to climb onto exam table. Falls off. _
> 
> _ 4:08 - Subject successfully climbs onto exam table. Beginning second art test. _
> 
> _ 4:10 - Subject has exceeded time of pre-ingestion art test. Seems to be unable to focus on the page. Movements are uncontrolled. Pencil keeps sliding off page. _
> 
> _ 4:12 - Subject still drawing. Keeps responding to inquiries about his progress with “Patience, Morgana.” _

“‘Morgana’?” Yusuke looked up at Takemi. She _did_ have that sort of haughtiness to her, didn’t she?

“Yes. You kept calling me that.” She crossed her arms. “Your girlfriend? You artistic types really like foreigners, huh?”

“No!” Yusuke’s face turned completely white. He had no idea how to begin explaining Morgana to the doctor, and frankly didn’t want to let his mind linger on what she had just said. He looked back down at the log.

> _ 4:13 - Subject has begun singing as he draws. _
> 
> _ 4:14 - Subject persists in singing, despite not knowing lyrics. _
> 
> _ 4:19 - Subject completes second art test. Is calling work “a masterpiece”. Seems to be suffering from delirium and a near-complete loss of motor skills. _
> 
> _ 4:21 - Subject stands on exam table and loudly proclaims himself to be “Majestic and splendiferous fox”. Unwittingly punches ceiling in the process. _

“Oh my.” Yusuke’s eyes widened. He had long stopped thinking about himself in terms of his Phantom Thief codename. “Regarding the events of 4:21, did I-“

“Anything you said that puts you or my regular guinea pig at risk will remain absent from all records of this drug trial.” Takemi gave Yusuke a reassuring nod.

“Thank you.” Yusuke returned his attention to the log.

> _ 4:22 - Subject goes silent. Is staring at a poster featuring cartoonish animal creature. Has mystified expression on his face. _
> 
> _ 4:24 - Subject still staring at poster. Is not responding to attempts at communication. _
> 
> _ 4:26 - Subject still staring at poster. Starting to cry. Murmurs something about “sai”. _
> 
> _ 4:29 - Subject collapses. Doctor intervenes to make sure he remains on table and does not fall from a high spot to the hard floor. _
> 
> _ 4:32 - Subject passes out. _
> 
> _ 5:13 - Subject’s stomach growls. Likely unrelated to medicine. _
> 
> _ 5:34 - Subject awakens. Seems to be returning to normal. _

“This is all quite bizarre.” Yusuke took a quick glance at the list again. “I recall almost none of this.”

“I was surprised.” Takemi took the log back from Yusuke. “I predicted some drowsiness and light versions of one or two of these symptoms, but this exceeds all expectations. I don’t know if I can actually use this research.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“From a scientific perspective, these results just don’t make any sense. There must be something unique about your physiology.” Takemi picked up a pencil. “I want to get to the bottom of this before you go. Take me through a day in the life of Yusuke Kitagawa.”

“Very well.” Yusuke was fully awake by this point. He crossed his arms and tilted his gaze at the ceiling. “My days usually start at about 6:30 in the morning. I have a glass of water, take care of my hygienic needs, and spend some time online looking at the latest news from the art world. Then I head to my classes.”

“No breakfast?”

“Not usually, no. Typically, lunch is my first meal of the day.”

“And what kinds of things do you eat for lunch?”

“Bean sprouts.”

“What else?”

“Nothing.”

“Just bean sprouts? Is that some artistic lifestyle choice?”

“It is a result of my financial situation.” There was an awkward pause in the conversation. Some cracks formed in the doctor’s cool, collected visage, and she looked at Yusuke with a mix of concern and confusion. He decided to break the silence. “Shall I continue?”

“Yes.”

“After the school day finishes, I continue the pursuit of my art. Sometimes that includes people-watching in the Shibuya subway station for inspiration. Other times I will be in my dorm room, working on a piece.”

“And how long does that last?”

“People watching takes several hours. Unless one of my friends comes along, in which case I’ll usually spend some time with them instead. We’ll often go somewhere with interesting scenery or share a meal at a diner together.”

“And if nobody shows up to see you?”

“I usually retreat to my dorm room and have a dinner of bean sprouts.”

“ _More_ bean sprouts?”

“Yes. Although if I am working on a painting, I will often eat no dinner at all. Such things are a distraction from art.”

“And what time do you usually go to bed?”

“If I am not working on a new piece, usually around midnight. If I am working on a new piece, I stay up much later. Sometimes until four in the morning.”

“Uh-huh…” Takemi stopped writing. “And just how often are you working on a new painting?”

“Oh, I’d say at least half of my days are spent dedicated to creating art.” Yusuke sat up straight, clearly proud of his devotion to art.

“Well, I definitely can’t use today’s research.” Takemi put her clipboard down and gave Yusuke a dull look of disapproval. “Your self-care habits are atrocious. It’s no wonder that you had such an extreme reaction to the drug trial.”

“But bean sprouts are nutritious, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but you still need to eat more than one thing.”

“When my friends offer to pay, I have proper meals at restaurants.”

“So mooch off your friends more. But also try and get a proper amount of sleep. And I couldn’t help but notice that your daily routine doesn’t seem to include any kind of exercise.”

“I am already very thin.”

“That’s not the same as being in good physical condition.” Takemi leaned back in her chair again. “Between you and Ren, I’m amazed that _you’re_ the one who isn’t sick in bed right now.”

“I see.” Yusuke stood up from the exam table. “I apologize for wasting your time.”

“Don’t be. This was fascinating.” Takemi got up from her chair. “It’s not too helpful for my trials, but this was still the most interesting appointment I’ve had in a while. Thank you.”

“I am glad I was able to be of some use, then.” Yusuke’s stomach growled.

“Bean sprout time?”

“No, I believe I shall stop at LeBlanc for some curry instead.”

“That’s a good idea. Take care of yourself, Yusuke.”

Takemi led Yusuke back into the waiting room and he exited the clinic. She took out her cell phone and texted Ren.

> Takemi: How are you holding up?
> 
> Ren: I’m not. How long will it take for these antibiotics to work?
> 
> Takemi: Most people start experiencing relief on the third day of the regimen.
> 
> Ren: Looking forward to it. How was Yusuke?
> 
> Takemi: That boy is an oddity.
> 
> Ren: Yeah, that’s what I expected.
> 
> Takemi: He’s headed your way now. I think you’ll have to cover the cost of his meal.
> 
> Ren: He’ll be fine. Boss never charges him.
> 
> Takemi: Then why is he so malnourished?
> 
> Ren: I don’t think Yusuke is capable of taking advantage of someone’s kindness. At least not on purpose.
> 
> Takemi: He sounds like a good friend, at least. Are you getting plenty of rest?
> 
> Ren: Yes.
> 
> Takemi: Really? When I stopped by the cafe this morning, Sojiro’s daughter told me you were causing some commotion last night.
> 
> Ren: I’ve calmed down.
> 
> Takemi: You better have. I need you back on your feet as soon as possible so I can continue my research properly. Doctor’s orders.
> 
> Ren: Got it. I’m feeling kind of tired now. I think I’ll take a nap.
> 
> Takemi: That’s the spirit. Get well soon, guinea pig.


	3. Youth Outreach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Futaba goes to assist Toranosuke Yoshida at one of his rallies.

> Makoto: How did the trial go, Yusuke?
> 
> Yusuke: It is difficult to explain, but it did not go poorly.
> 
> Ryuji: What does that mean?
> 
> Yusuke: Dr. Takemi and I did not achieve the goal we aimed for, but she was satisfied with my participation.
> 
> Haru: Well that’s good! It means Ren-Kun hasn’t lost favor with her!
> 
> Ann: So what’s next on the schedule?
> 
> Makoto: Ren's calendar says “Help Old Man Tora with his campaign”.
> 
> Ryuji: “Old Man Tora”? Who’s that?
> 
> Makoto: Toranosuke Yoshida. He’s a local politician that Ren is friends with.
> 
> Haru: Oh yes, I’ve heard of him! He used to be a disgrace, but in the past year he’s gained a great deal of popularity and is now running for Governor of Tokyo!
> 
> Futaba: Whoa! Ren's friends with a big shot like that!? Σ(° ロ °)
> 
> Ann: Wait, are you talking about that old guy who yells outside the train station at night?
> 
> Makoto: That’s the one. He’s a very kind man.
> 
> Yusuke: You’ve met him before?
> 
> Ren: Yeah, back when she was investigating us.
> 
> Futaba: About time you showed up. This is all for you, you know!  ☆ｏ ( ＞＜； ) ○
> 
> Ren: Sorry, I was asleep. Morgana woke me up because my phone was lighting up.
> 
> Ren: Also he wants me to tell you that “I am dedicated to my job and would not have disturbed Joker’s rest had he not explicitly told me to wake him if the group chat became active.”
> 
> Makoto: Go back to sleep, Ren. We can handle this.
> 
> Haru: That’s right! You need to rest for your recovery!
> 
> Ren: If you guys are insisting on doing this, I deserve a say.
> 
> Ann: That’s true. We don’t want to do something like send Ryuji to somebody who can’t stand loud noises.
> 
> Ryuji: Hey! I can be quiet!
> 
> Ann: No you can’t.
> 
> Yusuke: I must agree with Ann.
> 
> Haru: It is important to know your weaknesses, Ryuji-Kun.
> 
> Ryuji: Ren! Back me up here!
> 
> Ren: You know I don’t like telling lies, Ryuji.
> 
> Futaba: LMAO! Savage!  ⌒ (o ＾▽＾ o) ノ
> 
> Makoto: Let’s not prolong this. Ren, tell us who you think should aid Yoshida-San so you can go back to sleep.
> 
> Ren: I don’t know. He’s really patient and understanding. I think just about anybody would be a good fit for him.
> 
> Yusuke: If he’s so agreeable, perhaps we should send our most abrasive member.
> 
> Futaba: Looks like you’re up, Ryuji. ( ‾́  ◡ ‾́ )
> 
> Ryuji: Why are you guys always pickin’ on me!?
> 
> Makoto: Futaba should go.
> 
> Futaba: WHAT!?  ＼ ( 〇 _ ｏ ) ／
> 
> Ann: Futaba? Why?
> 
> Ren: Oh, I get it. Good idea, Makoto.
> 
> Futaba: What’s happening here? (x_x)
> 
> Makoto: You’re still uneasy around new people. Yoshida-San is the friendliest person I’ve ever met. He’ll be easiest for you to talk to.
> 
> Ren: This is the best fit for you, Futaba.
> 
> Futaba: But I don’t know anything about politics! (/ω ＼ )
> 
> Ren: All you have to do is stand there and hold a sign. It’ll be easy.
> 
> Ann: That’s it? Why do you need to help him at all?
> 
> Ren: It’s good for his image to have a young person visibly active in his campaign. It emphasizes the idea of him being the candidate for the future. Also moral support.
> 
> Haru: Sounds like it’s settled then.
> 
> Futaba: Time out! I haven’t agreed to anything! ( ☆ _@)
> 
> Ryuji: C’mon, you’re not gonna say “no”, are you?
> 
> Ann: Do it for Ren!
> 
> Yusuke: We all agreed to help. That includes you.
> 
> Haru: I believe in you, Futaba-Chan!
> 
> Ren: Morgana believes in you too.

“No, I was saying it would help her be less of a shut-in!”

“I’m not going to help you insult people over text.”

> Futaba: Fine! I’ll do it. o( 〒 ﹏〒 )o
> 
> Ren: Great. I’m going back to sleep.

* * *

Futaba felt uneasy as she got off the train to Shibuya. This was her first time going out on her own at night. It was a good thing Sojiro was still at LeBlanc, because he probably would’ve amplified her own fears about that with his worrying. Just thinking about that possibility was amplifying Futaba’s fears now.

_“No! Ren's counting on you! Get it together! It’s just holding a sign in front of a crowd. A well-lit open space where everyone is paying attention and I’ll be with somebody the whole time. A politician. Who could be the target of an assassination attempt. Or a terrorist gas attack. Or maybe his speech will rile up people and a big riot will break out! I can’t do this!”_

Futaba felt her phone vibrate. She took it out of her fanny pack and saw she had a photo message from Ren. She opened it to see a selfie of him lying in bed, throwing her the v sign.

_“God damn it! That stupid no-good lovable counting-on-me jerk! How can I bail in fear after that!?”_

Futaba made her way above ground and looked for Toranosuke Yoshida. It wasn’t hard to find him. There was already a crowd gathered around the spot Makoto said he would be at, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the man wearing the banner was the politician about to give a speech. She approached him, but stopped a few feet away when she realized he was talking to a couple of young men.

“…Sadly, I cannot say whether I believe you should take the adoption route. I am gratified by the local legislature that is allowing hospitals to recognize same-sex couples, and can only hope that this attitude spreads across the rest of the city and then the nation. But I do not feel it is my place to tell you two how to proceed in being recognized by the law as family. You gentlemen have a long fight ahead of you, and whether I’m elected governor or not, I hope to be able to aid you in whatever way I can.”

“Thank you for your time, Yoshida-San” one of the men said. “We’re looking forward to hearing your speech.”

“It will begin shortly” he replied. “I am confident that my young assistant will be here at any moment.”

That was as good a cue as any.

“Um…” Futaba tapped Yoshida on the arm.

“Hm?” Yoshida turned around and looked down at Futaba. “May I help you, young lady?”

“Actually, Tora-San, I’m here to help you. I’m Futaba-“

“Yes! Of course!” Yoshida smiled at Futaba and bowed to her. “Futaba Amamiya! It is a pleasure to meet you!” Yoshida was just as disarming as Makoto had advertised. His gregariousness chased most of her fear away. Of course, confusion also played a role in that.

“‘Amamiya?’ My last name is ‘Sakura’.”

“Oh! I see!” Yoshida bowed again, this time without the smile. “My sincerest apologies. When Ren messaged me that his younger sister was coming to aid me in his stead, I just assumed that you shared the same last name. Though now that I’m looking at you, there isn’t much of a family resemblance at all. I take it you two are adopted siblings?”

“Kinda.” Futaba clasped her hands together behind her back. “Ren started living with my adopted dad a while ago, but he has his own parents back in his hometown, so he’s not legally a member of our family, but we’re pretty much whatever you’d expect a family to be.”

“That is delightful to hear! Your family situation sounds very much like the future I envision for our country: A place where people come together out of mutual admiration and good-heartedness, regardless of official stature.”

“That’s a nice idea, but I don’t know if it’ll ever happen.” Futaba looked at Yoshida plainly, speaking in her usual blunt manner. “Most people I’ve met are jerks.”

“There are some unpleasant characters out there, I won’t deny that.” Yoshida put his hands on his hips. “But I believe that most people have both the ability and desire to be good to others, and the only reason they aren’t always doing so is because society has conditioned them to believe that you must be selfish to get ahead in life. I aim to disabuse people of that notion.”

“I dunno. That sounds like a lot of work to me.”

“Yes, it is. But it’s work worth doing.” Yoshida held out a sign reading “Street side speech in progress” to Futaba. “Shall I show you?”

“‘Kay.”

A few minutes later, Yoshida stood on his small platform, ready to address the crowd with a microphone. Futaba stood by his side, holding the sign up so it obscured her face. Having the entire crowd looking her direction was rough, even if they were mostly focused on Yoshida, so she was grateful to have some kind of barrier. Yoshida began to speak.

“Many people have asked me why I continue to hold my speeches here at the Shibuya Station Square. With the swelling of support I’ve gotten recently, my political peers keep telling me that I could rent out an auditorium or some similar venue. And every time, I tell them the same thing: Shibuya Station is where people are. Thousands of people pass through here every day, on their way to work, to school, when they’re heading home, when they’re going shopping or running errands or out on dates. It is not out of the way for them, and it does not have limited seating. This is a thriving location, one of many like it all part of the same network. The subway is the circulatory system of our great city, keeping people moving around like blood cells so Tokyo itself can function and remain lively. Without public transportation, there is no Tokyo.”

Futaba peeked out from behind the sign to look at the crowd. There were a lot of people smiling and nodding their heads in agreement. Clearly Yoshida knew his audience. It seemed just about everybody present used the subway.

“With that in mind, it is absolutely imperative that we maintain our subway system. Thanks to the corruption of Masayoshi Shido, Tokyo's subway has been hurt by a series of tragic crashes brought about by the mental shutdowns. Although those days are long behind us, we are still living with the aftermath of that nightmare. Not only did we lose many lives, but the subway cars, the tunnels, and even the tracks themselves were damaged every time one of these crashes occurred. Facing pressure from the many delays people were confronted with, the city’s government attempted to quickly repair the structural damage so everyday life could return to normal, but we now know that this rush job was less than ideal. I fear that these patchwork repairs will not hold in the long term, and we must take the time needed to properly put our subway system back in order.”

There were a lot of murmurs among the crowd. Many were still nodding in agreement with Yoshida, but a good number seemed unsupportive of the idea.

“I realize that this sounds daunting. The reason for the quick repair job was so the fewest amount of people would have their lives disrupted. A proper repair job would cause more train delays and even force people to temporarily seek alternative routes of travel. But these inconveniences would _only_ be temporary. And I would like to believe that most of us can agree that a thousand people having to add an extra hour to their commute for a month would be far preferable to a hundred people permanently losing their lives because a section of subway tunnel collapsed on them. And if such an incident were to occur, we would find ourselves similarly inconvenienced on top of the tragedy. So with the risks in mind, it only makes sense to negate them before we find ourselves facing a truly horrendous ordeal.”

That seemed to win a lot of the crowd back over, but Futaba could still see a fair amount of skeptics.

“There is also the matter of funding. Although the damaged areas are small, they still would not be cheap to replace. And as the Bureau of Transportation is not equipped to fully and properly repair multiple sections of damaged subway, the money would have to come from elsewhere. I imagine most of you would resent having your taxes raised for this project. There are known culprits responsible for these damages, after all. You’re probably wondering why you should be held responsible for undoing somebody else’s crimes. Which is why I would like to propose an alternate method of funding these repairs: Donations. Instead of forcing citizens to take responsibility for another's misdeeds, I would like to see people choose to contribute for the common good if given the option. There are over thirteen million people living in Tokyo. If the total repairs equalled one billion yen and everybody contributed one hundred yen — a paltry sum that even many schoolchildren could afford — we would meet the budget for fixing the subway and even have a surplus to further better our transit system!”

Most of the crowd seemed to be entertaining the idea. Not necessarily supportive of it, but not dismissive either. Futaba found herself mulling it over as well.

“Now, I am not proposing a complete replacement of the tax system and government funding for various agencies and projects. But I would like you all to consider the kind of good such a fundraising initiative could do. I am not simply asking you to give your money. I am asking you to get involved in making the changes you want to see in your community happen. It is unrealistic to imagine every citizen of Tokyo contributing one hundred yen, but if a fair amount of them contribute one hundred yen, and then even more contribute one thousand or even ten thousand yen, then combining those donations with already-present government funding may be enough to repair our subways and protect all future commuters. This is an idea I would like to explore, and I would like you all to explore it with me. Yes, I am running for governor, but it is not the people governing a society that define it. It is the people who live in that society that make it what it is. And it is my strongest belief that all of us coming together can make our society truly splendid!”

The crowd’s applause was sudden and loud. They weren’t particularly wild, but they weren’t reserved either. Futaba had to focus on the idea of her sign serving as a protective barrier to avoid being completely overwhelmed. After a minute, the applause died down and the crowd began to disperse. Yoshida turned to Futaba.

“So, what do you think?”

“That was something.” Futaba handed the sign back to Yoshida. “A lot of the people were on board with you the whole time, but a lot of them seemed to go back and forth between thinking your ideas were smart or crazy.”

“Yes, that’s certainly how these things seem to go.” Yoshida looked Futaba directly in the eyes. Even though he towered over her, his calm, kind expression made her feel like the two of them were eye level. “But I would also like to know what _you_ think of my policy proposal, Futaba.”

“It’s alright, I guess.” Futaba stretched her arms above her head. Holding that sign for so long had cramped them a bit. “I mean, I’d give a hundred yen, but I don’t really know if it’ll work.”

“Well, the idea is to engage people more than anything. An American president once said that people should ask what they can do for their country instead of what their country can do for them. I’m trying to hold a similar discussion.” Yoshida got a wistful look in his eye. “Still, it would be nice for a fundraising initiative like that to be fruitful. Could you imagine?”

“Depends on how you do it, I guess. I don’t know much about raising money, but don’t you need some kind of plan?”

“I was thinking of putting official collection boxes in every subway station.”

“That’s never going to raise enough money.”

“Oh?” Yoshida’s voiced sounded like what could be best described as the “smug adult” tone. That tone adults took when kids challenged them on something and they intended to listen just long enough to tell you why you were wrong. His facial expression, however, made him seem genuinely interested in what Futaba had to say.

“I mean, it’s rational. People that ride the subway would be invested in its upkeep. Maybe not everybody donates, but if even a third of the people riding the subway contribute a hundred yen a day over a few days or weeks or whatever, you’d gradually raise the money you’re looking for.” Futaba yawned. Being out like this for so long and talking about all this serious adult stuff was starting to wear her down a little. “The problem is, most people don’t do things for rational reasons. Busy salarymen riding those cramped subway cars in a rush aren’t going to want to stop to put any of their hard-earned money they did all that overtime to get into some box. Especially since any dork with a crowbar could probably tear it open and grab a fistful of easy cash.”

“I see…” Yoshida crossed his arms in frustration. “I would like to think that people would not be so apathetic, but I cannot deny your logic. I am not unaware that the people who stop to hear my speeches are a minority. Those in a rush are less likely to be in a charitable mood. If only there were a way to engage people from a position of comfort…”

“There’s the Internet.”

“I’m afraid I don’t really know much about technology. I just barely managed to get my head around text messaging.”

“Well that’s no good!” Futaba’s brow furrowed. “We’re living in a digital age! Computers are a huge part of our lives. How can you want people to elect you into office if you’re a total luddite!?”

“Oh my!” Yoshida was taken aback. “Are such things really that important?”

“Yeesh, no wonder Ren calls you ‘ _Old Man_ Tora’!”

“He does?” Even though he was being scolded by this tiny girl, Yoshida couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It felt very fitting.

“Everybody is talking to each other on the Internet all the time. It’s probably where most of the world’s communication happens these days. It’s not just funny stuff like cat videos either. People share news articles on social media and buy stuff and even do their banking online these days.”

“Fascinating. So you believe I should establish an online presence?”

“I don’t ‘believe’ it, I _know_ it.” Futaba held her finger in Yoshida’s face. “If you’re serious about all this stuff, you gotta reach as many people as possible. You need to make an official website and get on social media at the very least! You’ll need a team to help you manage that stuff too, because there’s a lot of noise online, and it’s too much for any one person to deal with. You can even set up donations for your subway repair plan on your website. People are more likely to be in a giving mood when they’re relaxing at home than when they’re tired from work.”

“You seem to know a great deal about this sort of thing, Futaba.” Yoshida smiled at her. “Would you be interested in helping me establish an online presence?”

“Well, you’ll need a team for the website. I dunno if I wanna commit to a long-term thing like that right now, and even if I did, it wouldn’t look great if you had a teenage girl as your webmaster. But I could help you set up a Twitter account, at least.”

“‘Twitter’? I believe I’ve heard of that. Isn’t that a place where people yell messages to the world?”

“Yeah. Perfect for a politician, right?” Futaba held out her palm. “Gimme your phone.”

“This can be done from my phone? How convenient!” Yoshida handed Futaba his smart phone. She began downloading the Twitter app and opened the camera.

“We’re gonna need a picture for your profile. Smile!” She pointed the camera at him.

“How should I pose? Like this?” Yoshida turned to the side, putting his hands on his hips and straightening his posture. “Or is this too boastful? Perhaps a wave?”

“Profile pictures are tiny. We’re just going to focus on your head.”

“I see.” Yoshida relaxed his arms and looked directly at the camera. “That makes things simpler.” He gave Futaba a big smile and she snapped the picture.

“Perfect.” She saw that the app had finished downloading, so she opened it. She uploaded the picture to the blank profile. “Alright, so first thing we need is a name for your profile.”

“Well, that should be my name, shouldn’t it? ‘Toranosuke Yoshida’.”

“That’s your display name, but we need a short and catchy handle for when people message you directly. Something like ‘Yoshida4Governor’ or ‘TokyoTora’.”

“Hm…” Yoshida scratched his chin in thought, then his eyes lit up. “How about that nickname Ren has for me? ‘Old Man Tora’, was it?”

“Well, it’s not the most professional thing, but people might like it if you have a sense of humor about yourself.” Futaba typed ‘OldManTora’ into the registration page. “Besides, if it doesn’t work you can always change it later.”

“That sounds useful.”

“Yup. Now we need to fill in your bio. Obviously your location is Tokyo, Japan. And you can put in your birthday and stuff later if you want. But you need a short summary of who you are as a person.”

“I see. Tell me how this sounds: ‘Friendly society, bright future. I am an experienced politician working for a better tomorrow. Please vote Yoshida for Governor of Tokyo.’”

“That’s alright, I guess.” Futaba started typing it in. “Any hashtags you wanna add? Like ‘VoteYoshida’ or ‘Tora4Governor’?”

“What is a ‘hashtag’?”

“Duh. Of course you wouldn’t know what that is.” Futaba pulled out her own phone and opened up her own Twitter feed. “You see these blue parts that have pound signs in front of them? Those are conversation topics, and if you click on them, you can see what everybody else is saying about that topic. So if we create a hashtag for your gubernatorial campaign, other people will use it when talking about you online, and then you can see what they’re saying.”

“I see.” This was all new and strange to Yoshida, but it didn’t seem too complicated. “How about ‘Tora for Tokyo’?”

“Ooh, that’s good.” Futaba added “#Tora4Tokyo” at the end of the bio. She also typed something on her own phone. “Now all you need to do is send out your first tweet.”

“An introductory message, hm?” Yoshida stretched out his arm, as if writing words in the air. “How about, ‘I am very excited to take my campaign to the digital frontier. I feel positive about opening this new avenue of communication with all of you, and am excited to hear your thoughts and hope for your continued support’?”

“That’s too long.”

“Really? I don’t think it’s too much for people to read.”

“No, I mean it’s literally too long. Look.” Futaba held up Yoshida’s phone to his face. About a third of the message was highlighted in red. “Twitter has a character limit. You have to keep your statements short and sweet, or they won’t let you post them.”

“I see. Well then…” Yoshida looked at the message for a moment. “Perhaps just ‘I am excited to be online. I hope to hear from you all so we can make our society better together’.”

“That’s good.” Futaba retyped the message. “Plus you’ve got room to add in ‘#Tora4Tokyo’ at the end there. You don’t have to throw that in every time, but it’s good for the first post, I think.” Futaba handed him his phone with the new message typed out. “Now all you have to do is hit that ‘Tweet’ button and the whole world will be able to see your message!”

“Excellent!” Yoshida pressed the button. A moment later, he saw a number go up on his profile. “It’s telling me I have a ‘follower’. Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, that’s people who stay subscribed to your account so they can see everything you put out. Can you see who it is?”

“His handle is ‘CafeAtticBoy’. That’s a strange name.”

“That’s Ren. I told him you were on Twitter while you were thinking of what to write.”

“How wonderful!” Yoshida looked at Ren's profile icon, a little coffee cup, and grinned. “I cannot think of anybody more suitable to be my first online follower!”

“Yeah, you can follow people too, like news outlets and stuff. It’ll take some time before you get a real following, but if you mention your handle and the hashtag in your next speech, I bet you’ll get a boost in popularity. Then people will just spread the news on their own.”

“Thank you very much, Futaba. You have been a great help to me.”

“It was nothing.” Futaba blushed a little. “You’re Ren's friend, and he was really upset that he had to cancel on you, so I just decided to pick up the slack in any way I could.”

“Well, I would like to think that you and I are now friends too.” Yoshida noticed the time on his phone. It was already ten o’clock. “My, but it’s getting late, isn’t it? You should really be heading home.”

“Yeah, I did a lot today.” Futaba yawned again. “Well, a lot for me. I went to a place, held a sign, met somebody new, and taught them how to use Twitter. That’s like, three more things than I do most days. I’m beat.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself, now would we?” Yoshida laughed. He’d never met anybody quite as odd as Futaba Sakura. “Have a safe trip home.”

“‘Kay. Later, Tora!” Futaba headed back underground. Yoshida watched her until the orange top of her head faded from sight and opened up the messenger on his phone.

> Yoshida: Your sister is a delightful person.
> 
> Ren: Really? She didn’t cause you any trouble?
> 
> Yoshida: None at all! She’s a very spirited girl, but it’s good for young people to be that way.
> 
> Ren: I was surprised that she got you online. I wish I’d thought of that.
> 
> Yoshida: Please don’t beat yourself up. You have already done so much to help an old man like me.
> 
> Ren: Right. I can’t believe Futaba told you about the “Old Man Tora” thing.
> 
> Ren: I was surprised you used that as your handle. I want you to know that it’s not an insult.
> 
> Yoshida: I did not believe that it was. I find it quite amusing.
> 
> Ren: Alright, good.
> 
> Yoshida: More importantly, how is your recovery going?
> 
> Ren: Still feel like I haven’t made any progress yet. I’m starting to go stir crazy up in this attic.
> 
> Yoshida: Yes, that will happen. Still, after everything else you’ve been through, I imagine you can endure this.
> 
> Ren: I hope so. See you soon, Old Man Tora.
> 
> Yoshida: Until then, Cafe Attic Boy.
> 
> Ren: Oh no. Futaba’s created a monster…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a weird chapter to write. I tried to do some research on politics in Japan and Tokyo especially, but I'm just not very knowledgable about that kind of thing. I'm also kind of a rube when it comes to Twitter myself. Honestly, I think it's a terrible platform for communication, but I don't think Futaba would feel the same way. So if anything I wrote seems patently ridiculous in this chapter, you'll have to forgive me.
> 
> Update: While doing research for another fic, I have learned that Tokyo does not have a mayor, something I missed the first time I tried researching this chapter. I have since changed this.


	4. Open Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru spends a night working at Untouchable.

> Futaba: Mission accomplished!  ☆ *:. ｡ .o( ≧ ▽≦ )o. ｡ .:* ☆
> 
> Makoto: So things went well with Yoshida-San?
> 
> Ren: She got him on social media. I was not expecting that.
> 
> Haru: That sounds very useful for a politician. Good job, Futaba-Chan!
> 
> Futaba: I did my part. Now I can relax and let you guys handle the rest. ( ´  ▽ ` )
> 
> Yusuke: As have I. We could form a relaxation club, Futaba.
> 
> Futaba: Inari ruined it! ( ＃ `Д´)
> 
> Ryuji: So what’s up next? Any hot babes who need a strong man’s help?
> 
> Ann: If there are, we’ll have to go outside the group to find one.
> 
> Ryuji: I can lift so much! I can totally out-lift you!
> 
> Ann: Are you seriously talking about this right now!?
> 
> Ren: Morgana wants you to know that should you two have a weightlifting competition, he believes in Ann.
> 
> Ryuji: He said it a lot ruder than that, didn’t he?
> 
> Ren: I may have edited his comments a little.
> 
> Makoto: To answer your question, Ryuji, tomorrow’s errand is assisting Iwai-San at Untouchable.
> 
> Ann: Isn’t that the gun store?
> 
> Ren: Airsoft shop. Not real guns.
> 
> Ann: I still don’t wanna go there. That’s creepy.
> 
> Futaba: It’s not that bad. Scary Weapons Guy is scary, but nice.  ٩ ( ◕ ‿ ◕ ) ۶
> 
> Makoto: Ryuji, you’re familiar with that establishment, correct? Perhaps you could go.
> 
> Ryuji: I would, but my mom needs my help with some stuff tomorrow.
> 
> Makoto: Then why were you inquiring about attractive women in need of assistance?
> 
> Ryuji: A guy can dream, can’t he?
> 
> Ren: It’s fine if nobody goes. Things in Iwai’s shop can get kind of intense.
> 
> Haru: I’ll go!
> 
> Makoto: It’s settled, then.
> 
> Ren: No it’s not!
> 
> Ann: This again? I’m beginning to think Ren's embarrassed by us or something.
> 
> Haru: It’s simply working in a shop, Ren-Kun. I need to get experience in customer service as it is.
> 
> Ren: Some of the people that come into that shop are creeps, Haru.
> 
> Haru: All the better! I am certain I will encounter belligerent customers in my desired line of work. It would be better to grow accustomed to that sooner than later.
> 
> Ryuji: Sounds like there’s no talkin’ her outta this, Ren.
> 
> Futaba: Yeah! Haru’s finally gonna be the crime lord she was always born to be! ( ﾉ ´ ヮ `) ﾉ *:  ･ﾟ
> 
> Haru: I don’t think I would be suited for that sort of thing, Futaba-Chan. Mobsters don’t typically wear pink sweaters.
> 
> Ann: Is that your only reason!?
> 
> Ryuji: I’m with Futaba on this. Haru’s scary when she wants to be.
> 
> Haru: Thank you for saying so, Ryuji-Kun!
> 
> Ryuji: See!? That’s not a normal reaction!
> 
> Ren: I hate this week so much.
> 
> Yusuke: Really? I’m finding it quite enjoyable, myself.

* * *

Kaoru was cleaning the glass counter at Untouchable. He didn’t often help out in his father’s shop, mostly because Iwai wanted him to stay away. Even after everything with the yakuza, he still said that Kaoru’s time would be better spent just about anywhere else. But there was a model gun enthusiast convention in town, which meant that quite a few hobbyists would inevitably make their way to the shop. And with Ren sick, his father couldn’t afford to turn away a helping hand. All day long, Kaoru had seen some strange people come through the front door. But the last thing he expected was the sight in front of him.

A girl a few years older than him came in. There had been a couple girls coming in that day, which was a rarity in itself for this store, but they were goths or military fanatics, real tomboy types. This young lady was incredibly effeminate. She had a warm smile, hair that looked soft enough to make a pillow out of, wore bright colors, and had an air of refinement about her.

“Um…” Kaoru wasn’t entirely sure this person hadn’t walked into the wrong store. “Welcome, miss. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Good evening.” This girl had the cheeriest voice he’d ever heard in his life. “Is Iwai-San present?”

“One moment, please.” Kaoru opened the door behind him. “Dad, there’s somebody here to talk to you!”

“Alright.” Iwai emerged from the back room, unwrapping a lollipop. He stuck it in his mouth and shoved the wrapper in his pocket. He looked at Haru curiously. “Somethin’ I can help ya with, missy?”

“Hello, Iwai-San. My name is Haru Okumura.” Haru bowed to Iwai. “I’m sure Ren-Kun has told you that I would be coming.”

“Yeah, I got a text from him a couple minutes ago.” Iwai looked Haru up and down. “When he said he was sendin’ a girl with brown hair, I figured it’d be that uptight girlfriend of his.”

“‘Uptight’- Oh! You mean Mako-Chan?”

“I dunno her name. But around a year ago some girl about your age came in here all wound up askin’ a buncha questions about Amamiya.” Iwai shook his head. “I guess I shouldn’t be callin’ her his ‘girlfriend’. Looks like he couldn’t seal the deal with her after all.”

“Oh no, they are in fact boyfriend and girlfriend.” Haru’s smile somehow got even wider. “They make a lovely couple.”

“He actually pulled it off?” Iwai grinned and thought back to when Makoto had denied being Ren girlfriend. “Nice goin’, kid.” His expression mellowed out and he looked back to Haru. “So, ya wanna work here?”

“For this evening at least, yes.” Haru looked around the store. “This establishment is adorable!”

“‘Adorable?’” Kaoru stared at Haru in disbelief. This was not the kind of person who came into gun shops, even if the guns were fake.

“Well, we’ve been swamped all day, so if ya know what you’re doin’, I’m not gonna turn ya away.” If Haru’s appraisal of the store as “adorable” fazed Iwai, he didn’t show it. “What’s your favorite kinda gun?”

“I’m quite partial to grenade launchers.” Haru picked up a model grenade launcher with a six-round chamber lying on top of a display case. “Speaking of which, is this a replica Milkor Multi-Grenade Launcher? I may want to purchase it before leaving tonight.”

“Impressive.” Iwai nodded. Clearly Ren wasn’t messing around with this replacement. “Alright, missy, you’re hired.”

“Dad, are you sure?” Kaoru whispered in his father’s ear. “She’s not exactly the kind of person your customers will expect to find in here.”

“Neither’re you” Iwai whispered back. “Anyway, ya need practice talkin’ to girls.”

“You don’t have to be so blunt about it…” Kaoru’s faced reddened slightly. He looked back to Haru and bowed. “I’m Kaoru Iwai. Welcome to the shop, Okumura-San.”

“Thank you, Kaoru-Kun.” Haru bowed back, still holding the grenade launcher in her hands. “Please, call me ‘Haru’.”

“Y’know,” Iwai said, “if you’re serious about purchasin’ that, I can stash it in the back so nobody else snags it before ya leave tonight.”

“I would be very grateful. Thank you.” Haru handed the grenade launcher to Iwai, who opened the door to the back room.

“Alright kids, let’s get to work.”

Iwai took a few minutes to give Haru a quick tour of the shop, showing her where the various accessories and different types of model guns were kept. He was pleased to learn that the young girl was already familiar with most of the merchandise, and made educated questions regarding the rare item she wasn’t already acquainted with. Still, Kaoru had a point that a girl with this demeanor and aesthetic wasn’t your typical gun nut. He didn’t typically take an interest in strangers, but he just had to know what this girl’s deal was.

“So, I’m not usually one for pryin’, but you’re a member of Amamiya's… uh… ‘club’, right?”

“Ren-Kun’s told you about that?”

“Not exactly, but it wasn’t hard to put two ’n’ two together.”

“Well, our ‘club’ has been disbanded, but you are correct.” Haru picked up a fake knife and tried balancing it upright in her palm. “Your services were very helpful to our ‘club activities’, Iwai-San.”

“Glad to hear it.” Iwai still had no idea how the Phantom Thieves fought corruption with fancy toys, but he figured the fewer details he knew, the better. “Is that why ya know so much about all this stuff?”

“No, I’ve always had an interest in weaponry.” Haru twirled the knife in her fingers. “When I was in elementary school, all the boys used to play these pretend action games with sword fights and shootouts. They told me I couldn’t play because girls don’t know anything about weapons, so I started reading about them to prove them wrong. I thought that if I could prove to them I knew all about swords and the like, they would have to let me play with them.”

“And seein’ how stubborn little boys can be, I’m guessin’ that didn’t happen.”

“You are correct again, Iwai-San.” Haru sighed. “I learned from an early age that most men do not seem to be fond of women who are more knowledgeable than them, or even independent in any capacity. But by that point, I had become rather infatuated with weapons, so I kept studying them. Of course, I kept this a secret from my father. If he knew what I did in my spare time, he would have been quite cross with me.”

“I’m guessin’ he’d be pissed to learn where you are tonight.”

“Sadly, his opinion is no longer a factor in my decision-making.” Iwai didn’t need to ask for clarification. The sadness on her face told him everything he needed to know. And then he came to another realization: She was _that_ Okumura. Iwai decided not to press the issue.

“For what it’s worth, it’s only the idiots who’re threatened by the smart gals. Anybody who’d reject ya for that ain’t worth your time.” Iwai gestured over his shoulder to Kaoru at the counter. “Hell, if he were a couple years older, I’d try settin’ ya up with Kaoru over there.”

“That’s very flattering, Iwai-San.” Haru’s face lit up and she let out a giggle. “Perhaps in a few years, when the age difference is less drastic, I shall take you up on that offer. I’m certain that any son of yours would make for delightful company.”

“It’s ‘cause he ain’t like me.” Iwai was smiling, but there was some sadness in his eyes. “In a life of constant screw-ups, raisin’ that kid’s the one thing I’ve done right. He’s smart as a whip, well-mannered, and keeps outta trouble. That boy’s more’n a thug like me deserves.”

“I doubt that’s true, Iwai-San.” Haru smiled at him and spoke sweetly, but Iwai still couldn’t escape the feeling that he was being lectured somehow. “If Kaoru-Kun is everything that you say he is, then it must be at least in part thanks to your parenting skills. And even if that’s not the case at all, perhaps the pride you can take in him is some higher power’s way of saying that you deserve better than you believe you do.”

Before Iwai could respond, he heard the door to the shop open.

“Welcome!” Kaoru said. Iwai and Haru turned around to see a tall, heavyset biker-type man with a thick beard. He had one of those faces that looked naturally mean. The biker ignored Kaoru and addressed Iwai directly.

“You the owner?” 

“Yeah.” Iwai aggressively bit through what remained of the lollipop he was sucking on. Somehow, he made it look tough. “How can I help ya?”

“I called earlier about the minigun kit.”

“Oh yeah.” Iwai dropped the aggressive act, pulling the lollipop wrapper out of his pocket and wrapping the saliva-covered stick in it, throwing the whole thing in the trash. “It’s in the back. Lemme get it for ya.”

Iwai stepped behind the counter and opened the door to the back room. Haru followed him out of curiosity.

“You have a minigun kit, Iwai-San? I didn’t realize they made such things.”

“It’s a real serious collector’s item. Comes with all the parts needed to build a realistic-lookin’ minigun. But since realism’s such a big deal, the pieces are all actual metal.” Iwai put his hands around a large box on a shelf on the wall and started tugging at it, grunting a bit. “Which means… the damn thing’s… really heavy!”

Iwai pulled the box off the shelf, but it slipped out of his hands. As it was plummeting to the ground, Haru’s reflexes kicked in and she wrapped her arms around it, catching it in mid-air. She was bent over, and it took all the muscles in her arms and back, but she managed to hold it above the ground.

“Careful… Iwai-San…” Haru was breathing heavily as she slowly straightened her posture, letting her legs carry most of the weight. She turned towards the front of the shop. “You almost… crushed your foot!”

Haru trudged out of the back room and gently set the box on the counter, panting as she relieved herself of the weight. Kaoru and the biker both gawked at Haru as she caught her breath. They were completely dumbfounded.

“That’ll be 125,000 yen.” Iwai cooly strode over to the counter, acting like he hadn’t just witnessed a teenage girl perform an unexpected feat of strength.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” The biker fished his wallet out of his pocket and handed Iwai the requested amount. He turned to Haru, his mouth forming a somewhat unsavory grin. “Say, little lady, what do you say you help me take this to my car?”

“I’ll help ya, big man” Iwai said sternly. He moved around the counter and picked up the box in tandem with the biker. They slowly carried it out the front door, leaving Haru and Kaoru alone.

“That was amazing, Haru-San!” Kaoru finally managed to rid his face of that idiotic expression. “How are you so strong!?”

“Gardening, Kaoru-Kun.” Haru’s breathing had returned to normal. “I regularly carry large amounts of fertilizer. The bags are quite heavy.”

“What do you grow?”

“I used to grow flowers, but these days, I focus on food.” Haru leaned against the counter. “I have a greenhouse where I’m growing vegetables and coffee beans.”

“A whole greenhouse!?” This girl just kept amazing Kaoru. “Sounds like you have big plans, Haru-San.”

“I do! I’m planning on opening my own cafe!” If Haru’s eyes were full of light before, they were a veritable fireworks show as she began telling Kaoru about her dream. “My goal is to have an establishment where I can serve food and drink all produced by the fruits of my own labor! I want every customer to feel like they’ve had a one-of-a-kind experience in an inviting place that they consider a home away from home.”

“That sounds wonderful, Haru-San.” Kaoru’s heart started to race a bit. Haru’s positivity was incredibly attractive to him. “I’d like to come visit it when it opens.”

“You’ll be very welcome, Kaoru-Kun!” Haru stood up straight, rising from the counter. “What about you? What would you like to do when you finish school?”

“I don’t really know.” Kaoru slumped over, resting his own elbows on the counter. “Dad’s always telling me that I’m smart enough to do anything I put my mind to, but I don’t have a clue what I _want_ to put my mind to. I’ve only just started high school, so I still have some time to figure it out. I’ve always had a head for numbers, so I think I might go into business. I just don’t know what kind of business I’d want to get involved with.” Kaoru sighed. “I wish I was more like you, Haru-San. So sure of what you want to do and be.”

“Cheer up, Kaoru-Kun. I’m certain that you’ll discover your passion sometime in the near future. Besides, having a mind for business is certainly not a bad thing. My father was a shrewd businessman to the point of self-ruin, so I myself am not very comfortable dealing with those sorts of affairs, but it’s a necessity for my cafe.” Haru’s smile weakened. “The people at my family’s company support my cafe and want to grow it into a big chain, but they’re saying such things very early on in the process, and I’m honestly not certain I want to proceed the way they’ve been talking about it. I want my cafe to be a place full of love, built on my own blood, sweat, and tears. I don’t know that I could do that with a whole chain. But if I don’t make it into a chain, I’m not certain the people at Okumura Foods will still support the cafe, and I don’t know if I would be able to handle the business end on my own while also still ensuring that my customers get the best possible experience.”

“W-well…” Kaoru tugged on his collar, his face turning red. “P-Perhaps when I’m out of s-school, I could assist you in that regard.” Kaoru took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It didn’t work. “I believe your c-cafe may be the sort of business I could see m-myself getting involved with.”

“That’s very kind of you, Kaoru-Kun.” Haru smiled gently at the younger boy. She knew what was going through his head, and while she didn’t feel the same way, she didn’t want him to feel even more embarrassed than he already was. He already seemed on the verge of falling apart just putting himself out there. “If you don’t have any better opportunities when you finish your education, I imagine there would be a place at my cafe for a smart young man like yourself.”

“I think I’d like that.”

* * *

The rest of the evening was largely uneventful. A few people came in, mostly to browse. There was a recurring pattern where they’d ask Kaoru questions, but Haru had all the answers. After a few hours, Iwai decided to close up shop.

“Alright kids, closin’ time. Go home.”

“Aren’t you coming, Dad?” Kaoru looked at Iwai with confusion.

“I’ll catch up with you later. I still need to crunch some numbers before I call it a night.”

“If it’s bookkeeping, I could assist you with-“

“It’s a school night, Kaoru. Go home.”

“Alright. Later, Dad.” Kaoru headed of the door. “Bye, Haru-San. It was nice meeting you.”

“Farewell, Kaoru-Kun!” Haru hung back in the shop, turning to Iwai. “I’m afraid you cannot close for the evening just yet, Iwai-San.”

“Yeah?” Iwai looked at Haru suspiciously. “Why’s that?”

“I still wish to purchase that grenade launcher.”

“Oh yeah.” Iwai walked over to his desk in the back room and grabbed the launcher. He held it to Haru. “Take it. You did good tonight, missy.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t!” Haru reached into her bag, looking for her wallet. “I must insist on pay-“

“Just take the damn thing.” Iwai shoved the grenade launcher into her arms. “Consider it paid for by you savin’ me a bunch on hospital bills.”

“Thank you, Iwai-San!” Haru couldn’t help grin at the replica weapon in her hands. “This is going to be an excellent addition to my collection!”

“A collection, huh?” Iwai smirked. “You got a whole armory back home or somethin’?”

“That’s an excellent way to describe it!” Haru looked up at Iwai in amazement. “I think I’m going to start calling it that from now on! Thank you again, Iwai-San!” Haru headed out the shop, a slight skip in her step. “Have a nice evening!”

Iwai said nothing as Haru left. He just observed the visual: A cute young girl full of positivity with excellent manners and a refined way about her, gleefully strolling along with a massive grenade launcher in her hands. He snickered when he imagined the faces of all the passerby she’d casually stroll past on the way home. He pulled out his phone and shot a message to Ren.

> Iwai: You got weird friends.
> 
> Ren: So you’ve told me. How did Haru do?
> 
> Iwai: She was great. Best employee I’ve ever had.
> 
> Ren: Aside from me, right?
> 
> Iwai: No, she’s leagues above you. Actually knows what she’s talkin’ about.
> 
> Ren: Oh. Wish I could say I’m surprised.
> 
> Iwai: Here’s some advice, kid: Never send a replacement who’s better at your job than you.
> 
> Ren: Does this mean I have to give back the crest you gave me?
> 
> Iwai: Nah. But if you decide you wanna be sick a bit longer, I ain’t complainin’.
> 
> Ren: That’s cold, Iwai-San.
> 
> Iwai: You oughta be milkin' this sickness thing for all it's worth. I hear you got a girlfriend now. Get her to play nurse.
> 
> Ren: That's a weird thing to say, Iwai-San.
> 
> Iwai: I'm just sayin', you got an opportunity here. If you're gonna be miserable, might as well try and have some fun with it.
> 
> Ren: You’re like the creepy uncle with a lollipop addiction I never had.
> 
> Iwai: I can quit anytime I want.
> 
> Ren: Bullshit.
> 
> Iwai: Try not to die, kid.


	5. Future Investments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ann learns about Chihaya, and is very excited to meet her.

Ren held his breath as he tip-toed across his room. If he was _just gentle_ enough, maybe Morgana wouldn’t be woken from his catnap. It seemed his feline companion had adjusted to Ren constantly coughing through the night, so he was a heavier sleeper now. Still, just to be safe, he held his breath so he wouldn’t start coughing again and wake up his four-legged warden. Yes, moving was hell, and all of Ren's body was telling him to stop it and go back to bed, but he couldn’t stand feeling imprisoned anymore. All he wanted was to go for a quick walk around the neighborhood, just to do anything.

Ren reached the stairs. He stood at the top for a moment, trying to figure out if there were any customers downstairs. This breakout was only going to work if he went unseen. The only voices he could hear were from the TV News. He also heard the sound of Sojiro washing dishes. That was good. If Sojiro was in the kitchenette, Ren might be able to sneak by him. He made a slow descent down the stairs, his shoes in his hand. He could put them on when he reached the outside. Right now, he needed to be as quiet as possible. Ren was halfway down the stairs when he heard Sojiro grumble.

“Out of apples? Ren's supposed to- Oh, right.”

The sound of footsteps could be heard moving away from the stairs.

“Guess it can’t be helped.”

Ren heard the bell above the door ring, followed by the door shutting. This was perfect! Now that he thought about it, he’d never have gotten out without Sojiro’s notice thanks to that bell, but if Sojiro was stepping out, all he had to do was wait a minute for him to reach the grocery store, then Ren could just stroll out of the alley LeBlanc was in and go… Somewhere. Not far. Maybe to see Dr. Takemi. Ask for some prescription-strength cough medicine or something. Anything to make him feel like he had some kind of control over his situation.

Ren reached the bottom of the stairs when he heard the bell above the cafe door ring again.

_“Did Boss forget his wallet?”_

“Hello?”

Ren knew _that_ voice.

_“Makoto!? What’s she doing here!?”_

Ren turned around and started climbing the stairs as quickly as he could without making noise. His entire respiratory system was going insane. He felt like he was about to explode. But if he coughed now, Makoto would definitely catch him, and he didn’t want to know what she’d do if she found him trying to sneak out.

Ren was halfway up the stairway when Makoto’s footsteps started getting closer. Then they stopped.

“Boss?”

Makoto seemed to be stopping to see if Sojiro was in the kitchenette. She must’ve just missed him on his way out. That pause gave Ren enough time to get to the top of the stairs. He heard Makoto’s footsteps continue and moved into his room.

Ren made his way to the bed as fast as he could. He could hear Makoto coming up the stairs and only had a couple seconds left. He hopped into bed, pulled the covers over himself, closed his eyes, and stopped holding his breath. All of the coughing he’d be holding in came out at once.

“Oh my, that doesn’t sound good.”

Makoto entered the room, a concerned look on her face. Ren kept his eyes shut, pretending to still be asleep.

“Ren?” Makoto approached the bed, speaking softly. “Hmm… Still asleep even after all that.” She walked to the desk, where Morgana was still asleep, and poked him softly. “Morgana, wake up.”

“Huh?” Morgana opened one eyelid, his whole face grumpy. “This better be good. I was dreaming about sushi.”

“You’re _supposed_ to be keeping an eye on Ren.”

“He’s still there, isn’t he!?” Morgana yelled.

“Ssshhh!” Makoto pointed to Ren, who as far as she knew, was peacefully asleep.

“Sorry, Queen” Morgana whispered. He rose to his paws and started stretching. “There’s not a lot of excitement up here. I’ve been feeling a little lethargic.”

“Well, I can understand that.” Makoto pulled the chair away from Ren's desk. “I’ll watch over him for a while. Why don’t you take a walk and get some of your energy back?”

“Sounds good to me. See you later.” Morgana jumped down from the desk and made his way out of the attic.

_“Lucky.”_ Ren kept pretending to be asleep. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to keep it up, but he wanted to make sure that his “awakening” seemed real. All he needed was the opportune moment.

Makoto picked up the chair and moved it next to Ren's bed. She sat down and got a good look at him. He was sweating all over.

“Even in sleep you’re miserable, huh?”

Makoto pulled a handkerchief out of her bag and wiped it across his forehead. Ren decided that the opportune moment had presented itself.

“Huh?” He tried to make his voice sound really throaty, like he was groggy and his vocal cords were just waking up. It wasn’t hard. All the congestion certainly helped. He slowly opened his eyes. “Makoto?”

“How are you feeling, Ren?”

“A little better. Not much though.” Ren forced a cough to sell his statement. In his condition, that set off a chain reaction of several more real coughs. He had no idea why he was trying to play up his actually-terrible state of health.

“I see. Here.” Makoto reached over to Ren's windowsill and grabbed his phone. She handed it to him. “Rest your throat.”

“I don’t wanna.” Ren put his phone back on the windowsill. “It makes me feel like a total invalid.”

“Just take it easy, then.” Makoto took hold of Ren's hand. “Is there anything you’d like to do today?”

_“There WAS.”_

“Tell me how your classes are going.”

“Are you sure? It’s all very dry.”

“If _you’re_ doing it, I’m sure it’s interesting.” Ren smiled at Makoto. “Besides, nothing good’s on TV this early in the day.”

Makoto spent about an hour telling Ren about her experiences at Tokyo University. If he was being honest with himself, it was all about as dry as she had claimed, but just hearing the excitement in Makoto’s voice as she talked about preliminary law courses and the various facilities brought more life to the attic than there had been for the past few days.

“Have you met any interesting people yet?”

“There’s this person I’ve seen in one of my classes who only has one eye, but I haven’t spoken with him.”

“Really!?” Ren had to remind himself not to raise his voice. “How did you not lead with that?”

“I don’t know anything about him!” Makoto crossed her arms defensively and pouted at Ren. “Besides, it’s not like you’ve never met anybody with one eye.”

“I knew one person who got split into two people with one eye each.” Ren shook his head. “That’s totally different. This guy has a story to tell. You should ask him.”

“Do you have any idea how rude that would be!? No decent person just goes up to somebody and asks them why they’re missing a part of their body!”

“Good point. You should get Ryuji to do it.”

“And just how would I justify bringing Ryuji along to college?”

“Show and tell?”

Makoto rolled her eyes, but Ren noticed the corners of her mouth turning upwards slightly. Before she could think of a retort, both her and Ren's phones pinged.

“Speak of the devil…” Ren said.

> Ryuji: Alright, new day, new friend of a friend to help! What’s next?
> 
> Makoto: “Help Chihaya”.
> 
> Ryuji: Who’s Chihaya?
> 
> Ren: The fortune-teller in Shinjuku.
> 
> Haru: A fortune-teller? That sounds like fun!
> 
> Ann: Totally!
> 
> Yusuke: I didn’t think you believed in such things, Ren.
> 
> Ren: I usually don’t, but she’s the real deal.
> 
> Futaba: Really? w(° ｏ °)w
> 
> Makoto: There’s never been any scientific proof of genuine fortune-telling. What few research attempts exist are fruitless.
> 
> Futaba: That’s what people said about my mom’s research, and we all know how that turned out.  ╮ ( ︶▽︶ ) ╭
> 
> Haru: She has a point, Mako-Chan.
> 
> Futaba: Mona vouches for her too. (=^ ･ ω ･ ^=)
> 
> Ren: Oh. I was wondering where he went.
> 
> Futaba: “I have a life outside of you, Joker!”  ヾ (=`ω´=) ノ ”
> 
> Ryuji: No he doesn’t.
> 
> Futaba: “Nobody asked you, moron!”  ヾ (=`ω´=) ノ ”
> 
> Ryuji: Who’re you callin’ a moron, you mangey cat!?
> 
> Makoto: Both of you stop it. I’m sure Futaba-Chan doesn’t want to keep typing out Morgana’s side of the argument.
> 
> Futaba: Yes I do! This is hilarious! ( ＾▽＾ )
> 
> Ren: Can we get back to the subject at hand?
> 
> Yusuke: What’s this? Does Ren actually want one of us to go meet his friend?
> 
> Ren: Chihaya’s harmless. Though it’s actually been a while since I’ve seen her. I’m not really sure what she wants help with.
> 
> Ren: On second thought, maybe you guys shouldn’t go.
> 
> Ann: No way, Ren. We haven’t listened to you all week and we’re not gonna start now.
> 
> Futaba: SHUT DOWN. Q(*_*Q)
> 
> Makoto: Well, I’m spending today with Ren, so I can’t do it. Ryuji, Ann, which one of you wants to go?
> 
> Ryuji: Not me. I hate Shinjuku.
> 
> Haru: Really, Ryuji-Kun? A red light district seems exactly like the kind of place you would enjoy spending time in.
> 
> Ryuji: Just what kinda criminal do you guys think I am!?
> 
> Ann: I wanna go! I’ve always wanted to meet a fortune-teller! Do you think she’ll read my palm?
> 
> Ren: She does tarot readings.
> 
> Ann: That sounds fun too!
> 
> Makoto: It’s decided, then. Ann will head to Shinjuku this evening.
> 
> Ryuji: Cool. That was easy.
> 
> Futaba: We’ll let you two get back to your alone time. ( ﾉ ´ з `) ノ
> 
> Makoto: Futaba-Chan!
> 
> Ren: Just no spying on us this time, Futaba.

“What?” Makoto looked at Ren, eyes wide with shock.

> Futaba: Low blow, Ren! ( ╥ _ ╥ )

“Long story. Tell you when I’m better.”

* * *

Ann had never actually been to Shinjuku. She heard a lot of conflicting things about how shady it actually was, but the one she heard most often was that the big scary monster that was the infamous “Red Light District” had been declawed, now more of a tourist trap than the den of sin it had once been rumored to be. Considering the massive multiplex theater present just down the street from a flower shop, this seemed to be the most accurate account.

Still, Ann couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable as she walked down the street. She was used to stares, due to her foreign looks, but these were all a bit bolder than the usual curious glances. All of the men and even a few women seemed to be watching her with baited breath, as if they were hoping she was on her way to one of the nearby hostess clubs to start a shift. Ann was feeling more unnerved by the minute.

_“Ren said that this woman operates at a table on the street. But I don’t see anything like that out here…”_

“Hello, Ann-San.”

Ann nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard someone behind her. She turned around quickly and saw a young woman with long blonde hair, a dark blue headband, and a mauve dress. She gave Ann a serene smile.

“I am Chihaya Mifune. Thank you for coming to assist me.”

“Oh, good.” Now that she knew that she wasn't going to killed or kidnapped, Ann loosened up. “Wait… how did you know who I was? Did you see our meeting in a vision!?”

“No, Ren-San told me you were coming. He described what you looked like.”

“Oh.” Ann seemed a little disappointed. “That makes sense.”

“Please, follow me.” Chihaya started to walk down a side street. Ann followed her with a feeling of unease. The fortune-teller seemed like a nice enough person, but being in this part of town with a total stranger— even one who was Ren's friend— was still weird. It didn’t help that their destination turned out to be an empty storefront, devoid of anything except for a single table in the middle of the room with two chairs surrounding it. It occurred to Ann that this would be the perfect place to murder somebody.

_“Or maybe somebody’s already been murdered here!”_

“What are we doing here? Is this place haunted?” Despite how creepy it was, Ann couldn’t help but get excited. “Are we gonna communicate with the spirits of the dead so they can find peace and move on to the next world!?”

“I’m not a medium, Ann-San.” Chihaya gave Ann a tired smile. Clearly this girl had some romantic notions about her work. “As of yesterday, this is my store.”

“Oh. So what _are_ we doing here?”

“I’ve spent most of my career telling peoples’ fortunes from a little stand on the street. But I’m afraid that it isn’t a very sustainable business model anymore.” Chihaya looked down at her feet, an ashamed look on her face. “For a long time I was involved in scamming people, and it made me decent money. But since I’ve been practicing more honestly, I’ve found that my income steam has been reduced to a trickle.”

“That must be hard.” Now that Ann thought about it, Chihaya would’ve had to have been involved in something unsavory to stay in the city as long as she did. “Fortune-telling isn’t exactly known for being a high-paying job.”

“It isn’t. When I first moved here, I read my own fortune, and saw vague signs of myself becoming enriched. I now believe that the cards were referring to my growth as a person. It’s just a shame that being a good person doesn’t automatically net you financial rewards.”

“If it did, people would be on their best behavior all the time.” Ann looked around the empty shop. “But you still haven’t told me what that all has to do with this place.”

“I have decided to open a proper establishment. Instead of telling fortunes in a makeshift stand on the street, I plan to turn this place into a psychic emporium of sorts.”

“Did the cards tell you to do that?”

“I’ve decided to take control of my own destiny. I don’t read my own fortune anymore.”

“Maybe you should.” Ann pointed to the table. “If all you’re doing is moving your fortune-telling table indoors, aren’t you just making things harder for yourself with the money it costs to rent this place?”

“I plan to do more than tell fortunes.” Chihaya pointed to the wall behind Ann. “Look over there.”

“Okay…” Ann stared at the wall in confusion. “I’m confused. Are you getting a vision from it or something?”

“No” Chihaya's voice remained calm, but her fists were clenched. “What do you think of putting a bookshelf over there?”

“I guess it’d fill the room a little. Why?”

“I’m thinking I could sell books on psychic theory and other sorts of occult phenomena. Possibly other accessories relating to fortune telling too.” Chihaya held her hands out in a frame like Yusuke often did, staring at the ceiling. “Perhaps a chandelier up there?” She looked towards the back of the store. “Maybe move the table back there, and in addition to telling fortunes, teach other people how to read tarot. Like I said, I want to expand my business past fortune-telling and into a full-on psychic emporium!”

“I see! I bet a lot of people would like that!” Ann took another look around the store. “Wait… Am I here because you need somebody to bounce interior design ideas off of?”

“Yes, well…” Chihaya sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Originally I hoped to have Ren-San’s help with this. He’s somebody whose opinion I’ve come to value greatly.” She let her arms drop to her side and smiled at Ann. “But I believe that you would be of great help for this task as well!”

“What makes you say that? Did you divine what kind of person I am when Ren told you I was coming!?”

“Will ya can it with the gosh dang psychic questions already!?” Chihaya completely lost her composure. “Ah ain’t some kinda witch what cain’t make it through the day without relyin’ on hocus-pocus! Ah can do normal things jes’ like you! Ah reckon a city-slicker like you oughta’ve heard of the Innernet!”

Ann stared at Chihaya, mouth agape. She was completely stunned by the older woman’s complete 180 presentation of herself. After a moment, Chihaya’s eyes widened and she blushed a little.

“Oh my. I slipped back into my country dialect, didn’t I?” Chihaya cleared her throat. “What I mean to say is that I thought your name sounded familiar when Ren-San told it to me, so I looked you up. When I realized that you were a model, I thought that somebody with that kind of sense of style would be the perfect person to help me with my decorative troubles. As you may have realized, I didn’t exactly grow up in the most chic environment, so I don’t really have a sense for such things.”

“Yeah. Um…” Ann hung her head low. “I’m really sorry about all those questions. I’ve just been really excited ever since I found out about you being a fortune-teller. But it was really rude of me to just focus on that. I know what it’s like when everybody only sees you for what you are on the surface.”

“I apologize as well. I don’t imagine appearing behind you like I did and then taking you to this bleak place gave you the best first impression of me.”

“Then how about we start over?”

“I think that sounds nice.”

“One second!” Ann ran out the front door, closing it behind her. Chihaya looked at her with confusion. Ann proceeded to knock on the door.

“Um… Come in?”

“Hello!” Ann entered through the front door waving. “I’m Ann Takamkaki! Ren sent me to help you since he’s sick! It’s nice to meet you!”

“I’m Chihaya Mifune. It’s nice to meet you, Ann-San.” Chihaya gave a slight bow. When she raised her head, both of them started laughing.

“So, you want this place to be full of all kinds of creepy stuff, right?” Ann began surveying the space in earnest.

“The paranormal, yes.”

“Well what if you really leaned into it? Like, we paint all the walls black, and all the lighting would be candlelight. You could get a spooky skeleton and have it hang by the front door with a sign saying ‘This person didn’t heed the cards’ or something like that!”

“Well, that would certainly draw a particular type of client, but I’m afraid it may be going too far.” Chihaya sat down at the table. “Most of my regular customers are everyday people looking for help. They’re not the kind of people chasing ghosts or trying to unlock the mysteries of the world beyond this one, they’re concerned about their lovers and jobs. I want my store to be an inviting place, one that wouldn’t scare people away.”

“Good point.” Ann sat down at the table opposite of Chihaya. “What if we go in the opposite direction? Instead of making you and your shop mysterious and scary, we make it Heaven on Earth! Like, people can come to you with all their worries and you’re some kinda angel in human form, using your divine power to see all to set them down the right path! Chihaya Mifune would be the ultimate savior!”

“I’m not very comfortable with that idea either.” Chihaya scratched her head. So far, Ann’s pitches were essentially the monster and the Maiden, two personas she was trying to rid herself of.

“I’m sorry.” Ann slumped down on the table. “I’m really trying here, but all I can think about is the different psychic stuff I’ve seen on TV over the years. All I’ve got are clichés.”

“Maybe you need a feel for the genuine article, then.” Chihaya pulled out her tarot deck and placed it on the table. “Do you think you’d have a better idea of how I should present my business if I did a reading for you?”

“DO I!?” Ann stood up, staring at the deck with wide eyes, practically salivating. She quickly gained her composure and sat back down, trying to appear dignified, but she was very stiff and spoke in a stilted manner. “I mean, I _suppose_ it could better familiarize myself with your particular personal brand, couldn’t it?”

“Of course.” Chihaya handed Ann a stack of twenty-two cards and a stack of fifty-six cards. “Please shuffle these individually.”

Precision was never Ann’s strong suit, so she wasn’t very good at shuffling cards. She fumbled them a lot, having to break the larger deck into four piles just so she could mix it all up. Even then it wasn’t very smooth. Cards came together in chunks rather than falling into place one at a time. Eventually she gave up, handing the decks back to Chihaya.

“First, let’s take a look at the Major Arcana. The card that will be drawn here will represent you.” Chihaya drew the top card from the smaller deck, revealing an image of two people coming together, an angel hovering over them. “Ah. The Lovers.”

“Lovers?” Ann looked at the card. “Does that mean I’m gonna meet the love of my life?”

“That’s one possibility.” Chihaya looked up from the card at Ann. “The Tarot are not always so literal. Sometimes this means you will be confronted by a choice. Hopefully the next card will clarify things.” Chihaya broke the larger deck into three decks and drew a card from the top of the first one. It showed two men, each holding a cup. “The Two of Cups.”

“The what?”

“You will indeed have to face a choice involving a relationship. Perhaps this is a new one, perhaps it is an old one. But you will be faced with the option to dedicate your time to another, and whether you do so will be a crucial deciding factor for the next chapter of your life.”

“So what should I do? Should I spend time with this person?”

“I cannot say.” Chihaya turned over the top card of another deck. It showed a young man holding a large staff. “The Page of Wands. You will soon find a new purpose in your life, a new path which you may wish to take.”

“Is that path spending time with the person from the cups card?”

“It could be. It could also be the opposite. It could be a passion of yours, and you must decide between pursuing it and spending time with the person who will come into your life.”

“So you’re saying I have to choose between true love or following a dream!? What kind of choice is that? Why can’t I have both!?”

“Please hold further questions until the end of the reading.” Chihaya revealed the final card: It was a tall building being assaulted by forces both natural and man-made, crumbling under all the stress. “My goodness! That’s not right.”

“What’s not right!?”

“This is the Tower. It’s one of the Major Arcana. It shouldn’t be in one of the Minor Arcana decks.” Chihaya looked at the decks. “There must have been an error while you were shuffling the cards.”

“Great! I ruined everything!” Ann leaned back in her chair and sulked. “Now the whole reading is wrong!”

“I didn’t say that.” Chihaya looked back to the Tower card. “I don’t believe in accidents in my line of work. If anything, this is fate.”

“So… What’s fate say?”

“The Tower represents the falling of what you thought you knew. Along with the previous cards, it’s likely that the choice you make will shake your world and everything you thought you knew about yourself. But it also means making space for a new you to be built up. It’s a symbol of growth.”

“You keep talking about this choice. Do you have any idea what I’m facing? If I know ahead of time, won’t I be able to plan it better?”

“I’m sorry, Ann-San.” Chihaya gave Ann a melancholy stare. “I do see some vague images, but they aren’t quite clear enough for me to give you what I feel are accurate details. If they are what I think they are, I am not certain I should tell you at this time.”

“Why not!? Isn’t that the whole point of fortune-telling? To know the future?”

“If I am interpreting these images incorrectly, the assumptions I leave you with this evening could cloud your judgment and make you choose a path of sorrow. But I will tell you this much…” Chihaya looked at the cards again. “I see personal trials in your near future. You will come to question your path through life so far and who you are, and it will happen very soon. But if you keep your mind open, and do not reject new instincts and epiphanies, you will likely choose the path that makes you happiest.”

“That’s all really vague, Chihaya-San.”

“I’m sorry. I truly would like to tell you more, but even my readings are incorrect sometimes, and this matter is simply too important for me to take that chance. If what I have seen is how things will be, I believe it best that you discover it for yourself.”

“Well, I guess you’re the expert.” Ann crossed her arms. “I still feel kinda ripped off, though.”

“‘Ripped off’?” Chihaya smirked at Ann, but she seemed more annoyed than amused. “This is a free reading, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ann rose from her chair. “I’m really sorry to do this, but after all that, I’m not really in the mood to think about interior design right now. I still want to help you, though. Do you think I could come back tomorrow and we could start brainstorming some ideas for your shop for real?”

“Of course. I’m sure we will work well together, Ann-San. Have a safe trip home.”

“See you tomorrow, Chihaya-San.” Ann left the shop. As she returned to the main street in Shinjuku, her phone started ringing. She took out her phone and saw that the call was coming from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Ann” a familiar speaker said. “How have you been?”

“Shiho!” Ann couldn’t contain her excitement. In that moment, she was as loud as Ryuji. “I haven’t heard from you since you finished rehab!”

“I apologize for that. Once I got home, my parents thought it would be best for me to get away from everything involving Shujin Academy for a while. I didn’t entirely disagree.”

“Well, it’s good to hear from you now. What have you been up to?”

“I don’t really want to talk about the past year right now.”

“Ok. What _do_ you wanna talk about?”

“Ann, I’m curious: Where are you thinking of going to college?”

* * *

> Chihaya: Ann-San is a very nice person.
> 
> Ren: I thought you’d like her. Most people do when they actually take the time to get to know her.
> 
> Chihaya: Does she have a boyfriend?
> 
> Ren: Why, do you know somebody who’d be good for her?
> 
> Chihaya: Not exactly. It’s just something I saw in her future, is all.
> 
> Ren: Well, if you’re worried about breaking her up with somebody, don’t. I’ve never heard her talk about a boyfriend. Or guys at all, come to think of it.
> 
> Chihaya: Well, she has a very interesting future ahead of her.
> 
> Ren: I don’t need to be psychic to tell you that. Ann goes after everything she wants full-force.
> 
> Chihaya: Well, I don’t believe I should be saying any more about your friend’s future. Are you feeling any better, Ren-San?
> 
> Ren: Shouldn’t the cards tell you that?
> 
> Chihaya: I’ve long stopped trying to read your fortune. It has a way of changing in an instant.
> 
> Ren: Well, I’m feeling a bit better. I think part of it is because I spent the day with my girlfriend. I was going nuts alone in my room with just my cat.
> 
> Chihaya; Yes, that matches what I saw when I did a reading on you.
> 
> Ren: I thought you said you stopped trying to see my future!
> 
> Chihaya: I just wanted to surprise you for a change.
> 
> Ren: It doesn’t count if you’re lying!
> 
> Chihaya: Agree to disagree.
> 
> Ren: Did you at least see how long it’ll be until I’m fully healed?
> 
> Chihaya: No. But I do know you’re not going to die.
> 
> Ren: Good enough, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a lot longer to write because I just don't feel like I have a handle on Ann's voice. It's not that I dislike her, but I think she's the most normal of the P5 characters, which gives her the fewest identifiable quirks and a harder personality to capture. This is my first time trying to write her in a starring role and I didn't wanna lean on the "airhead" thing too much, so I hope I did right by her. 
> 
> I also tried doing a lot of research on tarot for this. I had to draw from a few sources, so I'm not sure how accurately I portrayed a reading.


	6. Battle Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji helps Hifumi with shogi practice.

> Makoto: I fear I’ve made an error in our plans for this week.
> 
> Ann: Huh?
> 
> Haru: What’s wrong, Mako-Chan?
> 
> Makoto: Well, only Ryuji and I haven’t helped anyone yet, and I have an evening class today.
> 
> Ryuji: So I’m goin’ out today? That’s fine.
> 
> Makoto: I just don’t think today’s “client” is a good match for you, Ryuji.
> 
> Yusuke: Who is it?
> 
> Makoto: Hifumi Togo.
> 
> Yusuke: Goodness. I see your point, Makoto.
> 
> Futaba: Yikes.  ☆⌒ (> 。 <)
> 
> Ryuji: That’s weird. I think I know that name…
> 
> Haru: She’s a somewhat-famous shogi player, Ryuji-Kun.
> 
> Ryuji: Oh yeah! I’ve seen her in magazines. She’s kinda hot.
> 
> Futaba: That’s more reason you shouldn’t go! No girl should be subjected to Ryuji’s advances! ( ╬ Ò ﹏ Ó)
> 
> Ryuji: What’s that supposed to mean!?
> 
> Yusuke: She’s also a classmate of mine. Ren, you’ve been helping her practice her shogi strategies, yes?
> 
> Ren: Yeah.
> 
> Futaba: Well that’s no good. We can’t send Ryuji to do a job that requires brains. ( ↼ _ ↼ )
> 
> Ryuji: Will you quit treatin’ me like I’m an idiot all the time!?
> 
> Makoto: Of course you’re not, Ryuji. But this doesn’t exactly seem like your forte.
> 
> Ann: Have you ever even PLAYED shogi?
> 
> Ryuji: When I was little, yeah. I don’t really remember much about it, though.
> 
> Makoto: That’s why I think maybe we should send someone else.
> 
> Yusuke: I’m afraid I can’t go. Togo-San practices in the Church in Kanda, and I’m not exactly welcome there.
> 
> Haru: I cannot go either. Boss said he would teach me the proper way to grind coffee beans today.
> 
> Ann: I promised to meet Chihaya-San again tonight. I didn’t really help her that much yesterday.
> 
> Futaba: I’ve got a raid tonight. Maybe we could send Mona?  ฅ (• ㅅ • ❀ ) ฅ
> 
> Ren: Ryuji can handle it.
> 
> Ryuji: Yeah! I’ll kick this mission’s ass!
> 
> Futaba: Seriously? THIS is the one you’re ok with!? ლ( ಠ _ ಠ ლ)
> 
> Haru: If Ren-Kun believes in Ryuji-Kun, I believe we should all show him our support!
> 
> Makoto: Alright, I suppose if Ren's fine with it, we can send Ryuji to meet her.
> 
> Ann: Oh boy. Good luck, Ryuji.

* * *

It would not surprise most people to learn that Ryuji Sakamoto had never been in a church before. Of course, they would probably imagine a punk like him was a secret devil-worshipper or something. In reality, Ryuji just hadn’t been raised with religion. His deadbeat dad was hardly a spiritual man, and if his mom had ever been religious, she had let it fall to the wayside with how busy her life was. So as he approached the church in Kanda, Ryuji wasn’t quite sure what to expect. After all, Ryuji had helped kill God. Well, not the real God, but if all that Metaverse stuff had been real, what if God was real too? And what if he was pissed at Ryuji for killing something like him? Would he catch fire if he passed through the church doors?

_“Wait, that’s dumb. Ren comes in here all the time, and he’s alive. If there’s a real God, I bet he’s glad that we killed that faker who wanted to make the world look like Hell. We’re all totally goin’ to Heaven when we die.”_

Of course, while Ryuji may have been certain of that, the average observer was still certain that the thuggish-looking boy was destined for the fiery pit. That’s certainly what the look the three teenage boys hanging out outside the church gave him seemed to convey, at least. As Ryuji approached the church, they stared at him in confusion and anger. The people inside the building weren’t much kinder. The few people present in the church for whatever reason all looked at Ryuji like he clearly didn’t belong there. He was used to these kinds of stares, though he was still annoyed that they happened. But in the end, they didn’t matter. There was only one person in this church who mattered, and Ryuji could see her sitting in the front row of the pews.

“Hey, you’re Hifumi Togo, right?”

“I’m not signing autographs.” The girl looked at Ryuji scornfully.

“I don’t want an autograph.”

“I’m not interested in going on a date either.”

“C’mon, seriously?” Ryuji shook his head. “I ain’t here to hit on you. My name’s Ryuji Sakamoto.”

“Oh! Ren's friend!” Hifumi stood up and bowed to Ryuji. “I’m sorry for my rudeness. I just… Well…”

“I get it.” Ryuji sighed. “You’re famous and good-lookin’, so you probably got a bunch of creeps buggin’ you all the time. And I don’t exactly look like the most respectable guy.”

“Still, appearances aren’t everything, and I judged yours harshly. That was wrong of me.”

“It’s really no big deal. I’m used to it.” Ryuji pointed to the shogi board sitting on the pew. “So are we gonna play or what?”

“I’d be happy to.” Hifumi sat down and began setting up the board. Ryuji sat across from her. “How adept are you at shogi?”

“'Adept'? Uh...” Ryuji sat down and stared at the pieces. “I used to play it a bit when I was a kid, so I think I should be able to do this without screwin’ up too bad.” He looked up at Hifumi. “So which of us is goin’ first?”

“The challenger may have the first move.” Hifumi gave Ryuji a crazed glare. “But consider it carefully! For the Queen of the Togo Kingdom does not take declarations of war lightly!”

“Huh?” Ryuji lurched back a bit, surprised by the sudden change in Hifmui’s demeanor. She had a fire in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in a while. The same kind of fire that he and his friends used to have when they fought shadows. He was pretty sure he had no chance in hell of beating her, but he really wanted to try. “Oh yeah!? Well the King of the... uh... Almighty Badass Dragon Army says that the Togo Kingdom’s totally bogus, and it’s time for a new ruler!” Ryuji advanced his center pawn forward.

“Very well then! The dragon’s head shall be cut off this day!” Hifumi advanced one of her pawns. Ryuji moved his pawn forward again. Hifumi moved her center pawn to take his. “FIRST BLOOD!”

“You’ll pay for that!” Ryuji began advancing his king. Hifumi stared at him in confusion, but kept playing, getting her bishop into position. Within a couple moves, her bishop had been promoted.

“DRAGON HORSE STRIKE!” Hifumi’s Bishop took Ryuji’s King. “And so the Dragon Army falls, without a single loss to the Togo Kingdom!”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Ryuji pointed to the his side of the board. “I still got all these guys!”

“I took your King. That means I win the game.”

“I thought we were playin’ until one army totally wipes out the other!”

“No, you play until the King is taken! That’s why you don’t just advance him along like that!”

“Wait, what!?” Ryuji picked up the King piece. “I thought the King was like, the strongest one! That’s why he’s the leader! ‘Cuz only the King can kill the other King!”

“There’s no such rule!” Hifumi put her hands on her hips. “Are you telling me you don’t even know how to play shogi!?”

“I guess not!” Ryuji started laughing. “But you gotta admit, my version sounds pretty cool, right?”

“Well, I can understand your logic, but shogi is quite exhilarating when played properly.” Hifumi set up the board again. “Would you like me to show you how to play correctly?”

“I mean, I’m not gonna be much help if I can’t even play right. So I guess, yeah.”

Hifumi spent the next ten minutes explaining the rules of shogi and demonstrating the piece movements to Ryuji. He seemed to internalize about half of it. In the next game they played, Ryuji seemed to prioritize getting his knights out onto the field as quickly as possible. He even managed to get one into the promotion zone, but it got captured quickly after. In each subsequent game Ryuji tried focusing on the movements of a different piece. First the rook, then the bishop, then the lancer. Each time he was defeated quickly. Hifumi hardly felt like she was gaining any useful battle experience, but there was something oddly enjoyable about playing with somebody so unskilled. Hifumi was used to the masterful gambits of seasoned pros, people who had spent years studying the theory of shogi and perfecting all kinds of stratagems and counter-stratagems. Ryuji Sakamoto was nothing like that. He was a blank slate, trying to figure out shogi for the first time. It was a nice change of pace.

After a few games, Ryuji just seemed to be moving pieces at random, with no rhyme or reason. To her surprise, this tactic (or lack thereof) was harder to combat than when he was trying to get fancy with any of the non-pawn pieces. Ryuji had no plan, and while Hifumi could set up counters for each individual move he made, it was a bit harder to set up a master plan for victory. Before, he had been moving key pieces in somewhat-predictable patterns, taking advantage of their superior mobility to try and carve a particular path to her King. Now he was just doing whatever, which meant that there was no surefire plan she could make that he couldn’t throw a wrench into on some random whim.

None of this meant that Ryuji had even a snowball’s chance in Hell of winning. Ryuji’s “skills” were like a child’s compared to Hifumi’s, and just because a child can stall a parent for a moment by throwing all their toys across the room doesn’t mean the parent isn’t eventually going to march on over, grab the kid by the ear, and send them to the corner. Still, Hifumi could not deny that she was having fun.

“And so the Ogre King falls!” Hifumi claimed Ryuji’s king in their tenth game. They’d been playing for less than an hour in total. In that time, Hifumi had successfully repelled invasions from the Almighty Badass Dragon King’s Army, the Great and Awesome Revenge Army of the Dragon King’s Son, the Ultra-Superior Tiger Force, the Raging Storm Warriors, the Heavenly Demon Platoon, Dragon Army III: The Reckoning, the Fist of the Cake Knight, the Shinigami Masters of Specifically Killing the Togo Queen, the Immortal Metal Fire Samurai, and now the Almighty Badass Ogre King’s Army.

“Man, I totally suck at this!” Ryuji stomped his foot on the church floor. “How are you so effin’ good at this!?”

“Don’t feel bad, Ryuji. I’ve been playing this game for years.” Hifumi realized that Ryuji had reached his limit and began packing up her board and pieces. “You can’t possibly expect to beat somebody who plays at the professional level on your first day.”

“Nah, I get that, but like, how are you so good at _this_ game? How is anybody!?” Ryuji put his hands on his head. “It makes my head hurt! There’s so many different pieces that move in different ways and you gotta keep your eye on everythin’ you have and everythin’ your opponent has and there must be like, a thousand ways it can all go!”

“Far more than thousands. Billions.”

“F’real!?” Ryuji jumped up to his feet. “That’s totally nuts! How do you keep track of it all?”

“Well, it’s impossible to keep track of every possible combination of moves in every possible shogi game. I don’t even think there are computers powerful enough to do that.” Hifumi rose from the pew, putting her shogi set away in her bag. “Personally, I enjoy overseeing the complexity of it all. Managing so many units in battle at once is a thrill.”

“Battle, huh?” Ryuji put his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been in real fights, y’know. They’re nothin’ like shogi.”

“Well obviously I’m not talking about real fights. It’s just a game.”

“I guess it just ain’t my kinda game. I’m more of a charge in swingin’ kinda guy. Most video games I play are just your one guy fightin’ huge amounts of enemies. You don’t gotta worry about managin’ a bunch of different dudes. It’s just you fightin’ for yourself and bein’ awesome when you singlehandedly take out a room full of guys. It’s not about bein’ the smartest, it’s about bein’ badass.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never played a video game in my life.”

“Seriously? Is shogi the only game you’ve ever played?”

“Of course not.” Hifumi shook her head. “I’ve played other strategic games, such as checkers, chess, and go. Shogi is just the one I dedicate most of my time to.”

“Doesn’t it ever get old? I mean, you can’t spend your whole life just doin’ one thing all the time, right?”

“Shogi is my passion. I would never abandon it!” Hifumi looked at her bag. She thought about how she used the shogi set inside of it every single day, how she could identify every piece with her eyes closed through touch alone.“Although… I guess some variety wouldn’t be a bad thing once in a while.”

“Exactly! It’s like they say, variety is the sauce of life!” Ryuji knew that was wrong somehow. He also didn’t care. He was just excited at the prospect of leaving the church and doing something fun. “How about I take you to an arcade? We can see if you’re a wiz at any other kinds of games!”

“An arcade? You really want to take me to one?” Hifumi looked at Ryuji quizzically.

“Well, yeah.” Ryuji’s eyes widened as he realized the implication. Wasn’t this how Ren and Makoto started going out? “N-not like I’m askin’ you out on a date or anythin’! It’s just that even though I totally suck at shogi, I had fun learnin’ it from you and figured I’d return the favor.”

“I had fun too. And I don’t think you’re the kind of person who would lie about his intentions.” Hifumi smiled at Ryuji. “You seem like a very honest person, Ryuji. I think I’m going to enjoy our trip to the arcade.”

“Awesome! Let’s go!” Ryuji and Hifumi exited the church. As they stepped away from it, they were cut off by three teenage boys. They were the same boys who had been glaring at Ryuji earlier. While none of them looked quite as punkish as Ryuji, they all seemed like they were trying to project toughness and coolness. One wore a sideways cap. One had a toothpick in his mouth for some reason. The one who appeared to be the leader of the trio wore a shirt that said “Rock Star” on it.

“Hey now, just where do you think you’re going?” Rock Star asked.

“That’s none of your business” Ryuji said.

“It is when you’re walking off with our precious Hifumi-Chan!” Toothpick said.

“Do you know these guys?” Ryuji turned to Hifumi.

“No.” Hifumi stepped back a bit. “I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

“We’re big fans of yours, Hifumi-Chan!” Side-Cap yelled. “We’ve been following your career for a couple years now!”

“Oh. Are you all shogi players too?” Hifumi asked the question knowing she probably wouldn’t like the answer.

“No, but when there’s a beautiful Shogi Princess like you to root for, even that old geezer game can be a little exciting.” Rock Star looked Hifumi up and down. She was very uncomfortable with it. He glared at Ryuji. “We read about how Hifumi-Chan never goes on dates so she can focus on her career, and we really respected that. But then we heard rumors that she was spendin’ secret time with some guy in this church. But we never expected it to be some delinquent scum like this!”

“How hurtful, Hifumi-Chan!” Toothpick wore a faux-sad expression. “To think, you’ve been giving your youth away to some no-good trash all this time when you could’ve been with us! Don’t you think you owe us an apology?”

“Can it, you assholes!” Ryuji moved in front of Hifumi, standing between her and her “admirers”. “First thing, I ain’t the guy she’s been spendin’ time with. I’m just fillin’ in for him. Second of all, they ain’t datin’. That guy has his own girlfriend. He just helps Hifumi practice her shogi. Third of all, if they _were_ datin’, you wouldn’t have any right to complain, ‘cuz he’s a better dude than the three of you jerks put together! And last and most important, she don’t owe you squat! Just ‘cuz you like a girl don’t mean she’s gotta like you back!”

“What’s that, blondie!?” Rock Star stepped forward, his face inches away from Ryuji’s. “You think some dumbass like you can show _our_ Hifumi-Chan a better time than we can?”

“Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said!? She ain’t yours! What would your moms say if they heard you talkin’ about a girl like that?”

“That’s rich talk coming from a foul-mouthed piece of garbage! I don’t even wanna imagine what kind of whore would give birth to you!”

“THE HELL DID YOU SAY!?” Ryuji wound up his fist.

“Ryuji, no!” Hifumi grabbed Ryuji’s wrist before he could throw the punch. “They’re not worth it!”

“Oh, don’t say hurtful things like that, Hifumi-Chan! You're acting like we're less than nothing!” Toothpick moved around Rock Star and Ryuji, slowly making his way to Hifumi. “I’m sure if you gave us a chance you’d have a great time!”

“I don’t think so!” Hifumi pivoted around Ryuji, trying to keep him between her and the boy staring at her lewdly.

“Come on, Hifumi-Chan!” Toothpick tried reaching his hand over Ryuji’s shoulder. “Why don’t you ditch this good-for-nothing delinquent and we can show you just how _worth it_ we are?”

“Back off, douchebag!” Ryuji shoved his hand into Toothpick’s chest, pushing him back. The toothpick fell out of his mouth.

“Hey now!” Toothpick gave Ryuji a malicious grin. “Did you guys see that? That’s assault!”

“Oh, that’s right!” Side-Cap yelled. “This delinquent just attacked one of us!”

“I think we better exercise our right to self-defense, right guys?” Rock Star cracked his knuckles. “We should also take this opportunity to remove the hysterical Hifumi-Chan from this aggressive person!”

“Shit!” Normally Ryuji wouldn’t feel bad about a 3-on-1 fight. Even without his Persona, there was no way some morons like this could pose a threat to him for as strong and experienced as he was. But he had Hifumi to consider too. While he was preoccupied with fighting one of these guys, another one could try and steal her away. Ryuji grabbed Hifumi’s wrist and started running, pulling her behind him. “Let’s get outta here!”

Ryuji and Hifumi ran down the street, the three stalkers chasing them. Compared to Ryuji’s normal running speed, those chumps were slow as molasses, but unfortunately, so was Hifumi, and she didn’t seem to have much stamina.

“Ryuji, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up!”

“We gotta lose ‘em! I need you to give me everything you got!”

“I’ll try!”

Hifumi sprinted as hard as she could, Ryuji keeping pace with her. The two of them began to put their pursuers further behind them. As Hifumi started to lose steam again, they turned a street corner and Ryuji noticed a dimly-lit alleyway between two buildings. He and Hifumi ducked into it and ran all the way to its end, only to find a solid wall blocking their progress. They hid behind a dumpster and watched the three boys run past the alley.

“Do you think they’re gone?” Hifumi asked.

“We better hang back here a minute to make sure. They may figure out where we vanished to.”

“Hey! Over here!” Side-Cap doubled back to the alley’s entrance. He looked at the dumpster. “I think I heard something!”

“Aw shit.” Ryuji emerged from behind the dumpster, raising his fists.

“You’re not going to fight all three of them, are you?” Hifumi grabbed Ryuji’s ankle, still crouching behind the dumpster. “This is a really narrow space. You won’t have a lot of room to move.”

“I’ll just have to think of something” Ryuji said. He walked a few steps in front of the dumpster. The other two stalkers came to the alley’s entrance, and all three of them started slowly making their way towards Ryuji. He really wasn’t sure how this was going to go down. In a larger space, he’d be able to scramble his opponents a bit, dodge attacks from behind and the side. But here, the second he punched one guy, the other two would be right next to him, ready to pick up their buddy’s slack.

Hifumi observed the scene and felt a lightbulb turn on in her head. She stood up and pointed at Ryuji.

“Almighty Badass Dragon King! I resurrect you to defend the Togo Kingdom! Do you heed my call!?”

“The hell are you doin’!?”

“You will fight as commanded by the queen of the Togo Kingdom! If you do not carry out her masterful battle strategies, the Kingdom will be captured! Do you understand!?”

“Uh… Right! Dragon King ready for battle!” This wasn’t a video game. In this situation, Ryuji needed to be aware of everything going on at once. He needed to fight strategically. He was trusting Hifumi to watch his back.

“LANCER CHARGE!” Hifumi pointed at Rock Star, who stood in the middle of the advancing foes.

“Got it!” Ryuji charged straight forward. With his speed, his enemies didn’t have time to process what was happening. Ryuji shoulder-tackled Rock Star, moving him back a few feet and knocking him on his back. With Rock Star’s buddies behind his back, Ryuji couldn’t see Side-Cap about to punch him from his left.

“DRAGON HORSE STRIKE!” Hifumi yelled. Ryuji kicked his leg behind him and caught Side-Cap in the gut, causing him to hunch over. Toothpick took the opportunity to grab Ryuji by the shoulders.

“EASTERN ROOK SMASH!”

Remembering how Hifumi claimed sideways pieces, Ryuji threw all his weight into Toothpick’s grapple, driving the boy into the hard wall that served as one of the borders of the alley. Rock Star began to rise to his feet.

“PAWN STRIKE!”

Ryuji brought his hands together and swung them down in a hammer blow on Rock Star’s head, causing him to fall over again. Side-Cap recovered from the hit he took earlier and lunged at Ryuji.

“SILVER RETREAT!”

Ryuji jumped back and to the left, dodging the attack. Toothpick picked up a brick lying on the ground and aimed it at Ryuji’s head.

“KNIGHT’S PIERCING DASH!”

Ryuji stepped past Side-Cap and rammed his elbow into the pressure point between Toothpick’s shoulder and neck, knocking him out.

“SILVER ASSAULT!”

Stunned by his friend’s defeat, Side-Cap wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way as Ryuji turned on his heel and smashed his fist right into his jaw. Side-Cap lost all balance and hit the ground face-first, his hat falling off with the impact. Rock Star rose to his feet, his teeth bared.

“You worthless piece of-“

“BADASS DRAGON KING’S ALMIGHTY ASS-KICKING!”

“Aw yeah!” Ryuji shut up Rock Star by headbutting him right in the nose, breaking it. As the boy reeled back, Ryuji kicked him in the balls. When he leaned forward to cover his injured manhood, Ryuji delivered an uppercut to his chin. In pain all over and teetering about, Ryuji grabbed him by the face and lunged forward, smashing the back of the scumbag’s head into the ground.

“THAT’S CHECKMATE, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Ryuji and Hifumi yelled in unison.

With her “fans” all lying on the street unconscious, Hifumi left her position behind the dumpster and ran over to Ryuji, her hand in the air. Ryuji caught on to her intent and high-fived her.

“The Togo Kingdom wins again!” Ryuji yelled.

“I’m so fired up right now!” Hifumi was practically jumping up and down with excitement. “I feel like I could do anything! Can we still go to the arcade!?”

“Hell yeah we can!”

* * *

Later that night, Ren received a video message from Ryuji on his phone. He opened it to see footage Hifumi in an arcade, standing in front of a table-flipping game. There was a small crowd gathered around her.

“HELLFIRE DINNER DISRUPTION!”

Hifumi lifted the plastic table controller with incredible ferocity. Ren couldn’t quite make out what was happening on the game’s screen, but the crowd surrounding her went absolutely insane. Loudest of all was Ryuji’s voice coming from right behind the camera.

"Hey!" Ryuji's hand appeared, beckoning Hifumi over. "I'm gonna send this to Ren. You wanna say anything?"

"Yes!" Hifumi ran over to the phone and grabbed it. "Your body is at war! Make sure to take the proper steps to emerge victorious so we may meet on the field of battle again! Fight, Ren! Win!"

Ren watched the video again to make sure he wasn’t going crazy.

_ "They're getting along TOO well. Maybe sending Ryuji was a mistake." _


	7. The Cat in the Coffee House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sojiro spends some time with Morgana before opening LeBlanc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trying to figure out how I wanna tackle Makoto's chapter, so here's a mini-chapter for two characters I'd been wanting to work into the story somehow.

Sojiro yawned as he walked down the alley to LeBlanc. He wasn’t usually such a slow starter in the mornings. But last night Futaba had been really fussy about… well, he couldn’t really remember at the moment. He tried to rub the lingering sleep from his eyes with one hand while the other grabbed the door handle and pushed. The door did not move. Sojiro grunted in frustration and noticed that the sign was still flipped to “Closed”.

That’s right. Ren was sick. That’s what Futaba was all riled up over. She kept freaking out about how Ren never got sick and what if this was his first time and theorizing about him having an underdeveloped immune system. It took Sojiro forever to convince her that Ren wasn’t going to die and to calm her down enough to go to bed. Now that she was actually attending school these days (Shujin Academy, of course), she couldn’t just stay up until all hours of the night like she used to. With Futaba finally out of her shell, Sojiro was dedicated to being a better father to her. Which sometimes meant being a stricter father to her. Though he hadn’t really mastered that part yet. The pattern of letting that tiny girl metaphorically walk all over him with those big old boots of hers was firmly established, and was taking longer to break than he’d like.

Sojiro grumbled as he fished his keys out of his pocket and tried to remember which one was for LeBlanc. This was not usually such a grueling task, but he was just completely out of it. He tried every key he had on the lock of the cafe door, particularly feeling like a yutz when he realized he was trying to open shop with his car key. Finally, Sojiro managed to get into the store, and made a beeline for the counter. While it was true that he couldn’t remember a day since his 20s where he hadn’t ingested a significant amount of coffee, he very rarely felt like he needed it to function. This was one of those rare moments. Sojiro felt very impatient as he brewed the first cup of the day. It was only his experience and pride that kept him from rushing the process and making a subpar product. The layman may settle for whatever tasteless sludge cooked up by some clueless kid they could get their hands on during their rush to work, but Sojiro Sakura would not settle for making a less-than-masterful cup of joe, no matter what sorry state he found himself in.

As the first sip of Colombian coffee passed over his tongue, Sojiro felt like himself again. The fog in his head cleared up and he found himself energized. No longer was he some cranky, slow-moving, lethargic fool who understood nothing thanks to sleep deprivation. Now he was the cranky, slow-moving, relaxed fool who understood nothing thanks to middle age that he was accustomed to being. The only thing wrong with this cup of coffee was that Sojiro was drinking it alone. Sharing the first day’s roast with Ren had become a tradition in LeBlanc. Every morning Sojiro would brew them each a cup and they’d enjoy their drinks in silence before everyday life started with all its noise. Sojiro insisted on being the one to make the first coffee of the day, both because he enjoyed doing something for the boy he’d come to consider his son, and also as a power play. The brat had to remember who was the uncontested master brewer of LeBlanc.

It occurred to Sojiro that there was no reason tradition had to be shirked today. Just because Ren was sick didn’t mean he couldn’t drink coffee. Sure, Sojiro had one sip prematurely, but the kid didn’t need to know that. So, with one cup of coffee in each hand, Sojiro made his way up the stairs. As he reached the door to Ren's room, he found himself blocked by Morgana.

“Mornin’, cat.”

Morgana hissed at that. Sojiro kept forgetting that Morgana had human-level intelligence and could comprehend speech, and also hated being called a cat for some reason. Still, he’d gone the better part of a year never actually calling Morgana by name, and considering he couldn’t even understand the critter like his kids could, he wasn’t feeling particularly inclined to adjust his habits.

“Scooch over. I’m bringing the kid some special medicine.”

Morgana meowed and shook his head. Truthfully, this was why Sojiro still refused to address him by name. Knowing that the cat could think like a person was just weird. Sojiro wasn’t particularly glad when Morgana had vanished for two months after the kids beat whatever that monstrosity in the sky was, but he’d felt very awkward around the cat since learning its true nature. Addressing him by his name would just make the situation one layer too crazy. Still, the fact remained that his intended path was being barred by a cat. And unlike a regular dumb animal that just wanted to stay in a spot or mark its territory, this one was consciously denying him passage, which meant he’d have to divine a reason as to why.

“Oh really? And why exactly can’t I go into the my own attic?”

Morgana lifted his front paws, up, held them together, closed his eyes, leaned his head into his paws, and started purring. It took Sojiro a moment to realize that he was miming sleep.

“The kid’s out cold, huh?”

Morgana nodded. Sojiro looked at the cups of coffee in his hands despondently. He hated to let good beans go to waste, but he also didn’t care to drink too much of the stuff in too short a period. He looked back down at Morgana.

“I don’t suppose you want this, do you?”

Morgana shook his head.

“Figured not. Is coffee bad for cats or something?”

Morgana nodded and slumped over a bit. Sojiro heard the faint sound of a tiny stomach growling. He rolled his eyes and headed down the stairs.

“Come on, let’s get you some breakfast.”

Morgana hopped up on one of the tables and stared at Sojiro expectantly. Ordinarily Sojiro would’ve objected to the cat being on top of one of the cafe’s surfaces customers eat off of, but he hadn’t actually turned the sign hanging in the door to “open” yet, so he figured he’d just wipe down the table in a few minutes. He poured Morgana a saucer of milk and opened a can of cat food that Ren kept around. Sojiro didn’t know much about pet care, but Ren claimed it was high-end cat food. Apparently, Morgana wouldn’t settle for anything less than the best.

Watching Morgana enthusiastically partake of his breakfast, Sojiro remembered the second reason he still just called Morgana “the cat”: Because he WAS a cat. He may be a very smart cat, some kind of special magic cat, and some people may be able to understand his speech, but Morgana looked, walked, and acted like a cat. He was finicky, prideful, uppity, and had all the tastes that a cat had, from milk to fish. Hell, one time Sojiro caught him playing with a bit of string. Maybe if he could understand the animal’s speech like all the kids could, that would change, but Sojiro just couldn’t bring himself to see Morgana as a person. It was just too late in life for him to accept such a thing as normal. The only reason he could even accept all of Wakaba’s Cognitive Psience as valid was because apparently that world no longer existed.

That was something bizarre in itself. Futaba’s mother, the woman Sojiro loved, had dedicated her life to uncovering the secrets of this strange and crazy world of the human mind. And she was killed by somebody who knew how to put her research into practice. And then Sojiro's own family wound up fighting in that world, and saving the entire human race, or something. Ren and Futaba had explained it all to him multiple times but he just couldn’t parse it all, which Ren had an easier time of accepting that than Futaba did. As far as Sojiro knew, the last thing in all of existence that proved Wakaba wasn’t a total crackpot was Morgana. This creature that on the outside appeared to be a totally ordinary cat, but was actually born in that world Wakaba could never quite prove existed. Of course, Wakaba’s legacy was Futaba, her daughter who was just as brilliant as she had been, if not more so. But Sojiro couldn’t help but snort in amusement as he imagined how Wakaba would have reacted to a bunch of teenagers holding a genuine conversation with a cat. She probably would’ve taken it all in stride, approaching it with a barely-excited scientific curiosity the way she had approached Sojiro’s curry recipe. She probably would’ve even devised some kind of coded communication system to speak to Morgana, something Sojiro had entertained once or twice but never wanted to deal with the hassle of actually devising.

Sojiro hadn’t realized he’d been staring at Morgana this whole time until he caught Morgana staring back at him, curiosity in those blue eyes of his. The cat food and milk were all gone.

“You better not be expecting seconds. I’ve got to be opening soon.”

Morgana jumped down from the table and bounded up the stairs. The bright side to having a cat with human intelligence was that the cat was very respectful of boundaries. As Sojiro cleared away the small mess Morgana had left behind, he was grateful for that fact at least. The fact was, he was never going to be able to fully communicate with the cat. And he didn’t really want to. Did their relationship need to be any more complicated than it already was? Sojiro sighed as he flipped the sign on the door to “open”.

_“It’s too damn early to be thinking about this stuff.”_


	8. Working Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto covers Ren's shift at Crossroads.

Ren was sitting at the counter of LeBlanc. His condition had improved greatly. He was still a little weak and coughing, but he was allowed to at least walk around the neighborhood now if he took things slowly. He was even planning on going back to school tomorrow. Sojiro had closed up shop early due to a slow day, and Ren sipped away at a cup of coffee as he fired off a text to Makoto.

> Ren: You really don’t have to do this.
> 
> Makoto: Ren, you have this marked as “Extremely Urgent” on your calendar.
> 
> Ren: You copying that without asking me is something else we have to talk about.
> 
> Makoto: Well, we can talk about it tomorrow. Tonight, I have to go to work.
> 
> Ren: Again, you really don’t.
> 
> Makoto: I’m afraid it’s too late to turn back now. I’m already dressed up.

Ren got a photo message from Makoto. It was a selfie she took of herself in a sleeveless black evening dress. It wasn’t particularly risqué, as it covered everything below the waist and wasn’t really low cut or form-fitting, but he still found himself getting a little excited by the image.

> Ren: I didn’t know you owned anything like that!
> 
> Makoto: Of course I do. Did you think I had no formal wear in my closet?
> 
> Ren: I guess I’ve just never seen it before. I guess we need to go on a fancy date sometime.
> 
> Makoto: I’d like that. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in a suit besides your school uniform.
> 
> Ren: There was Akechi’s funeral.
> 
> Makoto: You want to wear a funeral suit on our date?
> 
> Ren: Oh, not that one. That wasn’t mine. It was a rental.
> 
> Makoto: Well you should really buy some proper evening wear before we make any plans that would require it.
> 
> Ren: Yes, Queen.

Ren noticed another message coming in, this time in the group chat.

> Ann: Last one! What are you doing tonight, Makoto?
> 
> Makoto: I’m going to Crossroads.
> 
> Yusuke: My goodness. Finding yourself at a crossroads in life is always a monumental event. If we can be of any aid on your journey to self-discovery, please let us know.
> 
> Ren: No, Yusuke. “Crossroads” is a bar in Shinjuku. I work there sometimes.
> 
> Ryuji: Dude, you have a job at a bar!? That’s awesome!
> 
> Futaba: Not just any bar! It’s a gay bar!  ☆ *:. ｡ .o( ≧ ▽≦ )o. ｡ .:* ☆
> 
> Haru: Really? I thought you and Mako-Chan were in love, Ren-Kun!
> 
> Ren: We are.
> 
> Yusuke: Ah, so you’re one of those people who “swings both ways”, as they say? I never realized.
> 
> Haru: I suppose it’s none of our business, but if you ever want to talk about the difficulties that it comes with, you have friends who will listen. 
> 
> Haru: We all love you just the way you are, Ren-Kun.
> 
> Ren: I… appreciate that… but I’m not bisexual. I just happened to become familiar with the place.
> 
> Ryuji: Hey man, no judgment, but how do you “just happen” to become a regular at a gay bar?
> 
> Ren: Ok, first off, it’s not a gay bar. The owner, Lala-Chan, cross-dresses. But it doesn’t cater to any one kind of clientele.
> 
> Ren: Second, I started going there because that reporter friend of mine who wrote a bunch of positive articles about us is a regular there.
> 
> Makoto: Ichiko Ohya? I’m a fan of her investigative journalism. I’ve always wanted to meet her. Do you think she’ll be there tonight?
> 
> Ren: It’s a day ending in “Y”, so probably.
> 
> Futaba: You’re sending Makoto to comfort a drunk reporter? That sounds nasty. ( っ ´ω`) ﾉ ( ╥ ω ╥ )
> 
> Ren: No, Lala-Chan has a big party booked for tonight. I was supposed to come in and help her out, but Makoto’s going to cover for me.
> 
> Haru: Well, it sounds like it will be an interesting experience. I’m happy for you, Mako-Chan.
> 
> Makoto: I’m sure it will be. Plus Ren has told me me that Lala-Chan pays well, so I’ll be able to surprise Sis by treating her to a nice dinner.
> 
> Ryuji: You get paid for your thing!? Lucky!
> 
> Ann: And you get to work in a bar too! That’s so adult, Makoto!
> 
> Makoto: From a legal standpoint, I’m almost an adult. We’re all getting close to that point.
> 
> Ryuji: Futaba ain’t.
> 
> Futaba: I’m more of an adult than you are, numbskull!  凸 ( `  ﾛ ´ ) 凸
> 
> Yusuke: Your response would indicate otherwise.
> 
> Futaba: Ren! Ryuji and Inari are picking on me! ( Ｔ▽Ｔ )
> 
> Ren: That’s showing them, Futaba.
> 
> Makoto: Well, I’m off to Shinjuku. I’ll let you all know how the evening went tomorrow.
> 
> Ren: Looking forward to it. Somewhere outside LeBlanc, of course.
> 
> Haru: Good luck!
> 
> Ann: Do your best!
> 
> Ryuji: Have fun.
> 
> Futaba: You got this! (b ᵔ ▽ ᵔ)b
> 
> Yusuke: Be sure to tell me if you spot any particularly artful cross-dressers.

* * *

Makoto was glad that Sae wasn’t home when she stepped out. It was true that between Sae’s change of heart after learning the truth of the Phantom Thieves and Makoto starting college, the young lawyer trusted her sister more now. Still, explaining that she was going to work in a bar in the red light district on a night before she had classes would be a rocky conversation. It was best to break the news to her older sister after the fact, perhaps over some high-quality sushi bought with Makoto’s earnings from that evening.

Sae’s reaction aside, Makoto was looking forward to working at Crossroads. For one thing, she did want to start getting some actual work experience. From what Ren had told her of Crossroads, it was a great place to talk to all kinds of people, which could be good practice for going into police work. If this evening went well, Makoto may ask the owner about working regularly there. She had only met Lala Escargot once, but she was very friendly at the time, and Makoto imagined she wouldn’t be difficult to work with.

Makoto also just wanted to make some money. She wanted to stop relying on her sister for everything. It wasn’t like the Niijima sisters were hurting since Sae made the switch to defense attorney. Quite the opposite. Going into private practice combined with Sae’s skills made her one of the few defense attorneys with a winning track record in all of Tokyo, which kept her in high demand. Having one less mouth to feed would help her sister greatly, but Makoto wanted to become truly independent and stop living under somebody else’s roof. Not overnight of course, but perhaps in a year or two she could save up enough money to rent an apartment all by herself. Or not by herself. She and Ren had never quite discussed the prospect of living together, but there was an understanding that they were both in this relationship for the long haul. And as charming as LeBlanc’s attic was, Ren had confessed to her that sometimes he’d like a proper modern living space with a real shower and carpeted floors. He couldn’t stay in the storage space above a cafe forever. And it would be nice to know that they’d see each other every day, no matter what classes or work demanded. Still, such considerations were quite some time away for the two. Tonight, Makoto had a job to do.

Crossroads was empty when Makoto walked through the front door. She had made a point of arriving early so she could be properly oriented. Lala Escargot was on the phone as she stood behind the counter. She smiled at Makoto as the girl entered and held up a finger to her.

“Alright, I gotta go. I’ve got some business to take care of. Yes, it’s important!” Lala rolled her eyes and made a 'blah blah blah' motion with her free hand. “You’re not earning yourself any favors with that attitude, mister.” Lala’s face returned to her usual sultry smirk. “Yes, you _are_ sorry. Ta-ta, now.” Lala hung up the phone and beckoned Makoto over to her. “Well, I remember _you_. It’s been a long time, cutie.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Lala-Chan.” Makoto gave a slight bow and approached the bar. She had only met Lala once before, but the bartender made quite an impression. It didn’t hurt that it was the day Ren and Makoto officially became a couple. Between telling off Tsukasa, slapping Eiko, and Ren's offer to become 'study partners', it was quite the memorable afternoon. Makoto was never the kind of girl to fantasize over what her perfect romantic encounter would be, but she never would’ve imagined that she’d be starting a high school romance in a bar of all places.

“So you and Ren-Kun are still an item, Makoto-Chan?”

“Yes, we’re quite happy together. But if you don’t mind, Lala-Chan, I’d like to discuss the details of what I’ll be doing tonight.”

“My, aren’t we presumptuous?” Lala crossed her arms and turned her nose up at Makoto. “We’re still in the gossip phase. I haven’t decided if you’re actually getting the job yet.”

“Oh my goodness!” Makoto’s cheeks reddened a bit. “I’m so sorry! Of course you would want to hold a proper interview! Oh shoot, I didn’t think to bring a resumé with me! I can’t imagine that reflects well on my-“

“No, I’m sorry, Makoto-Chan.” Lala chuckled and dropped her haughty pose. “I was just pulling your leg! Ren-Kun told me how cute you were when you got flustered, and I just _had_ to see it for myself.”

“Oh, he did now, did he?” Makoto’s cheeks turned even redder, but it was the red of her eyes that drew Lala’s attention. She felt a slight tingle go up her spine as the girl’s rage started to build.

“Calm down, hon. Your beau also told me what a hard-working, intelligent young woman you are. As far as I’m concerned, that boy’s word is good as gold.” Lala gave Makoto thumbs up. “You’ve got the job.”

“I see. Thank you.” Makoto made a mental note to thank and chastise Ren later. “So, what are the extent of my duties?”

“That depends. How old are you?”

“Nineteen years old.”

“In that case, you won’t be handling any alcohol. I run this place above-board. I trust that won’t be a problem?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Lala-Chan.” Ever since the Phantom Thieves had disbanded, Makoto had cared very much about following the law. Even when it came to something like the age difference between her and Ren. He hadn’t exactly been thrilled with her strict adherence to Tokyo’s age of consent laws while he was still seventeen, but he never complained about her choice either. They had still been plenty capable of enjoying each other’s company without resorting to such activities. And when Ren's eighteenth birthday finally did come around-

“Excellent.” Lala’s raspy voice cut off Makoto’s reminiscence of past romantic endeavors, returning the girl to the present. “Here’s the situation: I’ve got a big party coming in tonight. They’re a bunch of crossdressers. Kind of like me, but nowhere near as stylish or elegant.”

“Am I to understand that they’re a bit rambunctious?”

“More loud than anything, but that’s a good way to put it.” Lala gave Makoto a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, they all like to tease, but they wouldn’t dare touch you. If you can put up with their cooing, you’ll be fine.”

“Of course.” Makoto nodded her head. “But what I don’t understand is what I’m supposed to do if I’m not serving drinks.”

“You won’t be serving _alcoholic_ drinks. I’ll still need your help getting people soft drinks.”

“Do a lot of people actually order those? I thought the point of coming to a bar was to get intoxicated.”

“Oh, plenty.” Lala was laughing internally at the stiffness of 'get intoxicated', but thought better than to tease Makoto for it. “There’s designated drivers, people pacing themselves between drinks, and sometimes somebody just wants to taste something other than alcohol.” Lala looked around the bar. “I’ll also need your help keeping things running smoothly here.”

“You mean custodial duties?” Makoto was starting to feel overdressed for this.

“A little, but your biggest job is making sure customers are happy.” Lala waved her hand towards the barstools. “This place is gonna be packed tonight. The party people shouldn’t give you too much trouble since they’ve all got each other to talk to, but we’ve still got a bunch of regulars that come in to complain about their problems. Your biggest job is to be a sympathetic ear to anybody who needs it.”

“I can do that.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Let’s get to work!”

* * *

Makoto was a bit uncomfortable as customers started coming into Crossroads, but she adjusted as the evening went on. Lala’s words didn’t really do the big crossdresser party justice. These people were loud and flamboyant. They were flowery and a little crass all at once, teasing her about how adorable she looked in her dress. Some of the male-presenting ones even made statements about wanting to take her home, but they stopped making such jokes when Lala stated she was already attached to someone. It was like being in a room full of Haru/Ryuji hybrids, which actually helped Makoto get over her trepidation when talking to them once she thought of it like that. Makoto was a bit uneasy with this crowd at first, but as she got more used to their presence, she couldn’t really find anything actually objectionable about them. They were perfectly nice people celebrating each other’s company. They also seemed to be delighted by bold speech. Makoto wasn’t the kind of person who could deliver full-on sass like Lala could, at least not with total strangers, but she developed a rapport with the customers that they seemed to enjoy. And if she was being honest with herself, she was starting to enjoy it too.

This was what Makoto wanted. She was meeting new and interesting people. It wasn’t just the crossdressers either. Plenty of more common people trickled in and out of the bar throughout the evening, all with something to get off their chest. They had problems with work or their love lives, and while Makoto didn’t feel she was quite experienced enough to offer them any advice, she did feel like she was helping them just by listening. She wondered if this was what Ren felt like all the time. One of the things that brought Ren and Makoto together was their mutual drive to help people. Of course, all their friends had this instinct, but Ren just went out and did it all the time. He walked around Tokyo befriending fortune tellers and politicians and even lonely elementary schoolers and just gave them his time and effort like it was nothing. It took six people to handle one week of Ren's commitments. Makoto was beginning to feel like she had been slacking off somehow.

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Lala had no idea where her replacement helper’s sudden burst of motivation came from, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. Halfway through the night, Makoto started speaking with the customers more, taking an interest in what they had to say, and seemed more confident when taking their orders. It was a good thing too, because some of the customers were starting to get a bit fresh. The people just getting off of work had all finished their drinks and left, and now came the slightly tipsy customers who seemed to have already left one bar in search of another. Lala kept an eye on these new arrivals as they sat down, particularly a pair of young salarymen who seemed to be fresh out of college that were eyeing Makoto and nudging each other. Makoto began to approach the men to take their order, but Lala shook her head. She pointed Makoto towards a woman with a black bob cut who had just sat down at the end of the bar.

“Welcome to Crossroads, miss.” Makoto addressed the new customer from behind the bar. “How may I help you?”

“I’ve never seen you ‘round here before” the woman said.

“Yes, I’m temporary help for the evening. I’m-“

“Are you even old enough to drink?” The woman asked crabbily.

“Oh, um… Not just yet-“

“Then knowing Lala-Chan’s rules, you can’t help me. I’ll just wait ’til she’s done with those two.” The woman looked at the drunken young salarymen with disdain. Makoto’s attention was diverted by the sound of a shattering glass.

“Oh my goodness!” The noise came from the big party. One of the male-presenting crossdressers looked to Lala. At his feet was a shattered pint and a small pool of spilled beer. “I’m so sorry, Lala-Chan! It just slipped from my hand!”

“It’s fine” Lala shouted back. “Just be more careful! I’ll get it cleaned up in a minute!”

“I can take care of it, Lala-Chan” Makoto said. “I don’t think I’m going to be of much help back here at the moment as it is.”

“Uh-uh, sweetheart. I already told you, I don’t want you handling any booze.”

“I doubt that the police will take issue with it if it’s in a mop.” Makoto made her way to a door opposite the bathrooms. “Is this the broom closet?”

“Yes. Just be careful with the broken glass, hon.”

“Don’t worry, Lala-Chan.” Makoto grabbed a broom, dustpan, mop, and mop-wringer. “I’m quite a bit tougher than I appear.”

“That’s good to hear” one of the drunk men at the bar said. “I like girls who can handle a lot.”

“I don’t know why” his buddy said. “It’s not like they need to if they’re spending the night with you.”

Makoto ignored the men and began mopping up the spilled beer.

“Shut up!” The first drunk punched his friend in the arm. He turned to Makoto with a slimy grin on his face. “What do you say, cutie? I bet a girl like you could go for a night of fun, right?”

“Back off, boys.” Lala looked at the two with contempt. “That one’s already spoken for.”

“Oh yeah?” The drunk stood up from his barstool and looked around the bar. “Well I don’t see him speaking for her here and now.”

“I can speak for myself” Makoto said. She kept her back to the men, wringing out the mop in its bucket.

“You certainly can. And in such a pretty voice too!”

“Give it up already!” The crabby woman swiveled on her bar stool and glared at the man. “She’s obviously not into you! Why are some guys so pig-headed? Do you really think you’re going to get a girl to like you acting like that?”

“Oh, such harsh words!” The man who was still sitting gave the crabby woman a wink. “You know, you’re not so bad-lookin’ for an older woman.”

Makoto rolled her eyes and bent over, holding the dustpan to the floor. She began sweeping the broken glass into it.

“Now, now, if you boys are really so hungry for attention, we’d be happy to sate your appetite.” One of the female-presenting crossdressers blew them a kiss. “If you think you can handle us, that is.”

“That’s uh… flatterin’…” The standing drunk sauntered over to Makoto. “But none of ya are really my type. I prefer younger girls.”

Makoto wasn’t really sure what had happened. Everything went red for a second. When she was able to register her surroundings again, she was now standing upright, and turned around one hundred and eighty degrees. Everybody was staring at her silently, their eyes wide, mouths agape. The man who had been hitting on her was lying on the ground, screaming, clutching his nose, and Makoto had her right arm fully extended in front of her, her hand balled into a fist. Most peculiar of all was a lingering pain on her backside, as if she’d been pinched.

Before Makoto could put all the pieces together, her train of thought was interrupted by the party of crossdressers cheering.

“You bidge!” The man on the ground was looking up and yelling at her. His voice sounded a little off. “You broke by dose!”

Now Makoto registered everything that had happened. Before she could say anything, the crabby woman started laughing. Makoto looked over and saw her holding up a napkin with a '10' hastily written on it in pen. Lala started laughing too.

“What’s so fuddy!?” The injured man stood up and turned to Lala. “Dis is assault! Your ebployee hit be! I’b godda sue you add shut dis place dowd!”

“For what?” The black-haired woman at the end of the bar smirked. “I didn’t see anything. Did you, Lala-Chan?”

“Not a thing, Ichiko-Chan.” Makoto looked to the woman at the mention of the name 'Ichiko'. Lala turned to the party. “What about you girls?”

“Oh? Did something interesting happen?” One of the women feigned a look of surprise. “I didn’t notice.” She turned to one of her male friends. “Did you, darling?”

“Oh, you know us boys.” He grinned at the man with the broken nose. “We’re always so oblivious!”

“Why you…” The man with the broken nose glared at Makoto. “All you fuggin’ people! I oughta-“

“You should consider your next actions carefully.” Makoto stared calmly at the man in front of her. “After all, you’re intoxicated, and there are so many witnesses. This could turn out to be a dreadful evening for you.”

“You cad’t just-“

“You’re the one trying to do things he can’t. For example…” Makoto gave the man the signature Niijima glare. “You can’t remain in this bar.”

The man ran out the door, still clutching his face. Makoto turned to his friend sitting at the bar, still glaring. He gave a nervous laugh, threw some money down on the counter, and ran out after his buddy. Her face returned to normal and she turned to the party.

“I apologize for the disturbance, everybody. Please, continue enjoying yourselves.” The partygoers said something to Makoto, but she didn’t register it. She finished sweeping up the glass and and put the cleaning equipment back in the broom closet. Afterwards, she made her way back behind the bar. The black-haired woman raised a glass of brandy to her.

“That’s some right hook you got.”

“Thank you” Makoto said. “But it was a jab, actually.”

“Oh, I like this one, Lala-Chan!”

“So do I” the bartender replied.

“If you don’t mind my asking…” Makoto looked the woman in the eyes. “Are you the journalist Ichiko Ohya?”

“Yeah!” Ohya gave Makoto a surprised look. “How’d you know?”

“She’s Ren-Kun’s girlfriend” Lala answered.

“Ah…” Ohya crossed her arms. “So _you’re_ the famous Makoto.”

“‘Famous’?” Makoto cocked her eyebrow.

“Yeah. Ren gets all goofy whenever he talks about you.”

“Really?” Makoto blushed very slightly. It may not be enough for most people to notice, but from the grin that formed on Ohya’s face, it hadn’t escaped the reporter’s eye. Makoto gave her a bow. “Yes, that’s right. I’m Makoto Niijima. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“‘Niijima’?” Ohya scanned Makoto’s face. “Any relation to Sae Niijima, the prosecutor that Ren just so happens to know?”

“Former prosecutor. And yes, she’s my older sister.”

“That’s right, she’s a defense attorney now.” Ohya took a swig of her brandy. “So what’s the younger sister of a famous lawyer doing working in a bar? Hard times since Sae got off the government’s bankroll?”

“I hope you’re not trying to write a hit piece about my sister, Ohya-San.”

“Relax. I’m just curious.” Ohya leaned forward on the bar. “No offense to your sister, but she’s not exactly front page news these days.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Frankly, Makoto was happy for it. Sae was still busy and respected in her field, but she no longer had to deal with the pressure of being the SIU’s rising star. “To answer your question, I’m filling in for my sick boyfriend.”

“Ren's sick, huh?” Ohya took a disinterested sip of her drink. “How bad is it?”

“He’s at the tail end of bronchitis. He was much worse a few days ago, but he’s feeling better now.”

“But not better enough to work his promised shift at the bar?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“So he sends his girlfriend in his place? That doesn’t sound like Ren.”

“It isn’t. I insisted on coming. He was against it.”

“Really? You don’t seem like the barmaid type.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Bartenders are friendly and calming. Punching jerks is usually the bouncer’s job.”

“Well, as nice as I find this establishment, it’s true that my life’s goal doesn’t involve a full-time job in a place like this.”

“Oh yeah?” Ohya finished her brandy. Within seconds, Lala silently swooped in to refill the glass. “And what _is_ your life goal, Makoto Niijima?”

Makoto felt very awkward about this conversation. It was like one of Sae’s interrogations, but without the overt undertone of malice. For all her attitude, Ichiko Ohya was just somebody you felt like you could talk to, and that’s exactly what was so scary. Makoto was used to getting people to comply through authority and fear. This woman could just casually get you to spill your guts. Makoto could also tell that there was an ulterior motive to this interview. Until Lala had mentioned Ren, Ohya had just been making casual conversation. The second she learned who Makoto was and what her relationship was to Ren, the tone had completely changed. It was like Ohya was testing Makoto, making sure she was good enough for the boy who saved her career.

_“If that’s how she wants to play this, so be it.”_ Makoto had to make sure to suppress Queen. Any display of a fight or flight instinct would be admitting weakness. If she was going to do this, it had to be pure Makoto. _“Makoto Niijima never fails a test.”_

“I want to enter law enforcement.”

“A police officer, huh?”

“My eventual goal is to be police commissioner of Tokyo.”

“Yikes. The highest authority.” Ohya shook her head. “You know that’s a lifetime of headaches ahead of you, right?”

“Nobody ever changed society by taking the easy road.”

Ohya and Makoto were interrupted by Lala chuckling. Makoto frowned slightly.

“Sorry, hon.” Lala put her hand on Makoto’s shoulder. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s good for kids to have big dreams. You just don’t hear that kind of thing around here very often.” Lala turned to Ohya. “She’s just like Ren-Kun, isn’t she?”

“Yes, although she doesn’t quite have his cool.” Ohya winked at Makoto. “But that’s fine. I’m guessing you two balance each other out.”

“So does this mean the interview’s finally over?” Makoto put her hands on her hips. “And that you aren’t going to inform Ren that he should flee the city when I’m not looking?”

“You catch on quick.” Ohya took another swig of brandy. “Though I don’t know what else I should’ve expected from the daughter of the great Detective Sadao Niijima.”

“You knew my father!?” Makoto’s eyes widened.

“No, but I was a big fan of his. I’d follow his cases in the papers. He always seemed different from the other detectives you’d read about. Like he actually gave a damn.” Ohya sighed and spun her glass a bit, swirling around her brandy. “I was still a cub reporter when he passed away. I always hoped to be able to interview him one day.” She stopped playing with her glass and looked at Makoto apologetically. “God, it just dawned on me what an ass I sound like. You’re the last person I should be whining about when it comes to missed opportunities with him. Lala-Chan, take this away from me!” Ichiko slid her drink over to Lala.

“No, it’s fine.” Makoto smiled at Ohya for the first time since they started talking. “It’s always nice to hear that he was appreciated by somebody outside of the police force.”

“Great! Lala-Chan, give that back to me!” Ichiko caught the brandy as Lala slid it back across the bar to her. She took a sip and got a big smile on her face. “Here’s some advice, Makoto: There’s no better combination than a clear conscience and a stiff drink.”

“You think a stiff drink goes with everything” Lala said. Makoto giggled at that.

“I think you and my father would have gotten along, Ohya-San. He’d allow himself to enjoy a drink whenever he closed a case.”

“Well, here’s hoping you take after him. You’re eighteen, same as Ren, right? Come back here when you turn twenty so we can be drinking buddies.”

“Nineteen, actually.”

“Great! Less of a wait time! So are you in college or what?”

“Yes. I’m currently studying law at Tokyo University.”

“Tokyo University… You don’t say…” Ohya pushed her glass aside and looked at the ceiling. Makoto could see the wheels turning in her head. Ohya looked at Makoto with an opportunistic gleam in her eye. “Say, how would you like to help me with a story I’m working on?”

“A story?” Makoto found herself intrigued by the offer.

“Oh no you don’t! Not again!” Lala moved between Ohya and Makoto. “You are not dragging this nice young lady into one of your investigations!” 

“Don’t be such a killjoy, Lala-Chan! Makoto’s a big girl. And the search for justice is in her blood!”

“She’s right on both counts. But I appreciate you looking out for me, Lala-Chan.” Makoto moved around Lala and gave Ohya a determined look. “What’s the story?”

“Well…” Ohya leaned in and spoke in a low voice. “There are some rumors that one of the professors at Tokyo University is taking advantage of his female students.”

“How?”

“Apparently, he grades his female students more harshly than his male students. Then when they come to him to discuss their grades, he offers them a deal: Improved grades for sexual favors.”

“That can’t be true! There’s no way he could discriminately grade against half of his students and get away with it!”

“But that’s the trick: He doesn’t do it to all of the girls. Apparently, he focuses on freshman girls who were doing well in high school, but are now struggling in the transition to college.”

“You sound like you know quite a lot about it. What do you need me for?”

“None of the girls that have come to me will give me a name. The only hint I’ve gotten is that he’s a tenured professor, really entrenched in school. If any of the other faculty members know about his misdeeds, they aren’t doing anything about it.” Ohya furrowed her brow. “Apparently he has a hidden camera that he takes pictures of the girls with. He’s blackmailed them all into silence. They’re already on the cloud, and if his name gets out, he’ll release all of those pictures to the public. I need somebody inside the school to dig up any information they can.”

“This is a bad idea, Ichiko-Chan.” Lala gave Ohya her regular scowl.

“No, sexual harassment and blackmail is a bad idea. Exposing this corrupt professor so his students can study in peace is a good idea.” Ohya finished off her second glass of brandy. Lala notably didn’t go to refill it. “Somebody’s got to look out for all those students! Right, Makoto-Chan?”

“Yes.” Makoto didn’t have to think about it at all. This was her chance to make up for letting Kamoshida get away with his abuses back at Shujin. She had been the Student Council President, but when her classmates were being mistreated, she was completely blind to it. She may not have the same reputation and influence at Tokyo University, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to fix things there. “I’ll help with this investigation.”

“Think this through, Makoto-Chan.” Lala shook her head. "Ignoring the potential danger you could be putting yourself in, won’t you two be sentencing all of those girls to a lifetime of humiliation if you find what you’re looking for and publish it?”

“Of course not!” Ohya slammed her fist on the bar. “There’s a way around that!”

“Oh?” Lala looked down past her nose at Ohya. “And what is it?”

“I… don’t know yet. But I’m sure something exists.” Ohya hung her head. “It has to, right?”

“It does.” Makoto leaned in and whispered to Ohya. “I understand that you know why Ren was such a good source for a particular news story of yours, yes?”

“You mean…?” Ohya blocked the sides of her face with her hands mouthed the words “Phantom Thieves” to Makoto. Makoto nodded.

“I was also part of that.”

“My goodness.” Ohya spoke a faux-surprised tone. Clearly she had deduced that on her own once she knew Makoto’s relation to Ren. “Careful who you tell that to. It could tank your career in law enforcement.”

“Ren trusts you, so I trust you.” Considering how heavy the conversation topic was, Ohya was a little disconcerted by how bright-eyed and innocent Makoto’s expression was. “More importantly, we know somebody who can gain access to those blackmail photos and destroy them.”

“You mean a hacker?”

“The best in all of Japan. This person could also gain access to that hidden camera you mentioned if it’s connected to any network. All I need to do is find out his name, and they can take care of the rest.”

“And if it’s not connected to the Internet?”

“My phone is bugged. All I have to do is tell this hacker to keep an ear open and stage a confrontation with this teacher. They can capture the whole thing without me even touching the screen. Even if the professor takes my phone, we’ll have a remote recording.”

“I like the sound of that.” Ohya grinned. “You’re gonna be one hell of a cop, Niijima.”

“Oh dear.” Lala sighed and took out her cell phone.

* * *

Ren was reading a book in bed when his phone pinged. To his surprise, he had a message from Lala Escargot.

> Lala: I’m sorry, hon. I tried to stop them.
> 
> Ren: What are you talking about? Did something happen to Makoto!?
> 
> Lala: Ichiko-Chan happened. Makoto-Chan’s gotten involved in one of her investigations.
> 
> Ren: Don’t blame yourself. Once Makoto learns about an injustice, nothing can stop her from trying to fix it.
> 
> Lala: Just like you and Ichiko-Chan. Why do I let such reckless people into my heart? You’d think I’d have learned by now.
> 
> Ren: The world needs people like us.
> 
> Lala: That won’t stop me from worrying myself grey over you lot.
> 
> Ren: We wouldn’t expect anything else. The world needs people like you too, Lala-Chan.
> 
> Lala: You sweet talker. Come say hi as soon as you’re feeling up to it, you hear me?
> 
> Ren: I promise.

Ren went to bed shortly thereafter. He was awoken by another text at three in the morning.

> Ohya: Heyyyyyyyyyyy!
> 
> Ren: Do you have any idea what time it is?
> 
> Ohya: Time for last call!
> 
> Ren: There is no way Lala-Chan hasn’t kicked you out and gone home by now.
> 
> Ohya: I have beer at home, you know. I’m an adult. I get to do that.
> 
> Ren: I weep for you, but probably not as much as your liver does.
> 
> Ohya: Shut up! Also, that girl is perfect for you!
> 
> Ren: I hear you’ve roped her into one of your stories.
> 
> Ohya: Yup! She’s gonna be the main source for my next big article!
> 
> Ren: I know I can’t stop either of you, but please tell me it isn’t anything dangerous, like the Yakuza.
> 
> Ohya: Of course not! She’s just investigating some fuddy-duddy college professors!
> 
> Ren: Ok, good.
> 
> Ohya: Why? Do you think she’d go undercover in the Yakuza if I asked her to?
> 
> Ren: I’m going back to sleep.
> 
> Ohya: That’s not a no!
> 
> Ren: It’s not a yes either. Good night.
> 
> Ohya: Sweet dreams! Don’t let your tuberculosis or whatever get stronger again!


	9. Random Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mishima and Shinya have a chance meeting.

Yuuki Mishima hadn’t even changed out of his school uniform yet. There was no time. His computer’s cooling fan was broken, so the second school let out, he headed straight for Akibahara. The documentary series about the Phantom Thieves he’d started on YouTube was really taking off these days. Mishima didn’t just cover the big news stories like Madarame and Shido, he made individual episodes about the smaller cases they’d helped settle. Being the subject of one of Mishima’s videos had become a source of bragging rights for many. A lot of people came forward claiming to be saved by the Phantom Thieves, but most of them were just people looking for any kind of spotlight. If any of them knew that Mishima could fact check with the leader of the Phantom Thieves, he imagined he’d get a lot less of those messages.

Ren hadn’t exactly been thrilled with the idea of Mishima’s documentary series at first. Although Mishima didn’t fully understand it, apparently after that Christmas Eve the city went completely nuts, the Phantom Thieves lost their ability to operate, and Ren just wanted to put it all behind him. But upon seeing the pilot episode about the students saved from Kamoshida, Ren changed his tune. It seemed that he enjoyed seeing the long-term effects of his help. Of course, he still wouldn’t give Mishima any big details, but at least the guy let him know when he was given a false lead. Ren seemed to enjoy making Mishima work for his web content. And that was fine by Mishima. He enjoyed the work. It was true that the Phantom Thieves would never save anybody ever again, but at least the stories of their heroics could inspire people in the future. 

He had to hit a few electronics stores to find what he was looking for, but within half an hour of stepping foot in Electric Town, he had the fan he needed in a plastic bag. It had actually been on sale, so he had a good chunk of change left. And sure, he didn’t _need_ to spend the money, but since he’d been planning on parting with it anyway…

_“I have all night to edit the episode. I’m sure I have time for a quick trip to the maid cafe.”_

A big, dopey smile appeared on Mishima’s face. His web series was doing well, he was going to fix his computer, he was going to be served a meal by a cute girl calling him “master”, and on top of all that, it was a nice sunny day. It was rare that Yuuki Mishima experienced this kind of contentment. Between the dark events of his past and his general social awkwardness, something always seemed to be off for him. Today though, his mood was pleasant. His life was pleasant. The entire world was just pleasant.

“This is total bullshit!”

Annnnd it was gone.

The declaration came in a high-pitched voice. Mishima turned to the source of the noise, Gigolo Arcade. There was a boy causing a scene, surrounded by a couple of friends. They all looked like they were maybe in their later years of elementary school, but what really stood out was the loud boy’s attire. Between his red cap and his blue jacket, his outfit had a message for the whole world: “Get smoked, noobs”. Mishima was trying to remember where he’d heard of somebody like that before.

“C’mon, Shinya” one of his friends said. “You’ve been screamin’ at this game for like forever. Let’s go do somethin’ else.”

“You guys can leave if you want” Shinya responded, dropping more money into the arcade cabinet before him. “I got my pride to defend here! I’m not leaving until I beat this stupid old people game!”

“Whatever, dude” his other friend said. The boys headed for the arcade’s entrance, leaving their companion behind. “I can’t stand when he gets like this.”

“That’s the king of gun games for ya” his buddy said as they walked by Mishima. “This junk matters to him.”

So that was it. That kid was Shinya Oda, the kid people called the king of the arcade. Mishima spent a lot of time in Akibahara, but he’d never actually met the kid himself. And apparently, the nationally-ranked Gun About champion was having trouble with some kind of light gun game. Mishima approached him, completely forgetting about the maid cafe. He _had_ to see just what game could be giving the reputed video game prodigy so much trouble.

“Stupid dog! Quit laughing at me!”

To his surprise, Shinya Oda was playing Duck Hunt. And completely bombing at it.

“That’s weird” Mishima said. “I didn’t know they had this game.”

“They usually don’t.” Shinya spoke with his back to Mishima, still firing wildly at the Duck Hunt screen. “They’ve swapped it in for Gun About as part of some dorky ‘retro game week’ or something. It’s so lame.”

“Oh.” Mishima was surprised to hear Shinya respond to him. He didn’t realize that he’d been speaking out loud. But since _the_ king of arcades had responded to him, he might as well take advantage of the opportunity for a conversation. “So what’s the problem?”

“The goddamn game’s broken!” Shinya slammed the light gun back in its holster on the game cabinet.

“You really think so?” Mishima looked at the game curiously.

“It has to be! There’s no way I’d be missing a bunch of stupid ducks otherwise!”

“Mind if I try?” Mishima stepped between Shinya and the game. “There was an arcade that had this game near me when I was little. I used to be pretty good at it.”

“Whatever, man. The game’s rigged. But if you wanna waste your dough, that’s not my problem.” Shinya stepped back and crossed his arms. He rolled his eyes as Mishima put a coin into the machine. Sure enough, Mishima fired off three shots and missed the first duck. The dog popped up and laughed at the older boy. Shinya turned his head away. There was no point in watching. Of course this guy wasn’t going to hit anything. This crappy game was so old that it was probably malfunctioning.

_DOOT-DOODLE-DOOT-DOOT DOOT-DOOT-DOOT_

Hearing a new jingle, Shinya looked and saw a smiling dog holding up a captured duck.

“No way!” Shinya dropped his disinterested facade. “That was a fluke!”

“It’s certainly possible.” Mishima downed the next duck within two shots. He managed to shoot down every other duck in the first round. After the third round, he got a game over and turned to Shinya. “Man, I used to be able to get a lot further than that. Just rusty, I guess.”

“How the hell’d you do that!?” Shinya looked at Mishima in awe.

“I could teach you, if you want.” Mishima was enjoying this attention. He’d gotten used to people actually having respect for him thanks to fans of his documentary series, but having somebody legendary like one of the most famous gamers in Tokyo be impressed with him was still pretty cool.

“For real?”

“Sure. Let me watch you play so I can see what you’re doing wrong.” Mishima handed Shinya the light gun. Shinya put a coin in the machine. Sure enough, without one round, he’d gotten a game over.

“This shouldn’t be so hard.” Shinya groaned. “How did this game ever get popular if it was so hard? Why can’t I hit anything?”

“I mean, it’s really not _that_ hard.” Mishima pointed to the demo game playing on screen. “You just follow the pattern the ducks are flying in and aim where they’re going to be.”

“I know that!” Shinya glared at Mishima. “That’s like, arcade gaming 101!”

“So then, why aren’t you doing it?” Most people would have asked that question aggressively. Yuuki Mishima was not most people. He didn’t have the temperament to be a harsh instructor like Shinya was when teaching other people. He asked calmly, with genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know. I just can’t get my head in the game for reason.” Shinya put his hands on his head. “I never have this problem with Gun About.”

“Interesting…” Mishima looked at Shinya quizzically. “And just how _do_ you get into the zone when you’re playing Gun About?”

“Well, that’s easy. It’s a war.” Shinya lowered his head just enough for the brim of his hat to block his eyes, trying to look cool. “There’s no time to lose my head. When I’m in battle another guy, I’m not just shooting at them, I’m focused on not getting wrecked myself. Having a survivor’s instinct puts me into some kind of soldier’s calm or something. I understand everything I need to do in order to win.”

“Well, there’s your problem. Duck Hunt isn’t a war.”

“Huh?” Shinya looked back up at Mishima.

“It’s hunting. You don’t have to worry about an enemy beating you, so you don’t have that rush of adrenaline that makes you great at Gun About.”

“So what, you’re a hunter?”

“Me!? No way!” Mishima shook his head fervently. “I could never fire a real gun! Plus I don’t really like the outdoors. But I have been fishing a few times, and that’s all about waiting until the right moment to take action, so I guess it kinda translates to this.”

“Fishing, huh? Are you any good at it?”

“Yeah…” Mishima sighed. “But it’s not really the kind of thing that impresses girls, so I don't really do it anymore.”

“So you’re saying I’ve gotta be zen and stuff to shoot the ducks?” Shinya reached into his pocket and fished out another coin.

“I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

“Guess I can try it.” Shinya started the game and took a deep breath. Mishima found himself holding his own breath as the first duck came onto the screen.

Shinya got a game over on the first round again.

“God damn it!” Shinya glared at the game over screen. “I wish there was a way to shoot that freaking dog!”

“There’s actually a version where you can shoot him in the face.”

“I wish it were this version. I’d love to shut that dog up.”

“I bet. Hmm…” Mishima crossed his arms and looked at Shinya as if scanning him. “Say, I think I’ve figured out how to fix your problem!”

“You have?”

“Yeah. Your whole thing is that you get pumped up when you have somebody else to beat, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, what if you consider the dog your opponent?”

“How can I do that? He doesn’t attack you or anything.”

“But in a way, doesn’t he? Aren’t you tired of seeing this face?” Mishima put on a big grin, closed his eyes, and held a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah.”

“Well…” Mishima’s face returned to normal. “What if you think of that as attacking you? Every time the dog laughs at you, that’s like you getting hit. And he does it enough, and you lose the game. So all you’ve gotta do is try to take out ducks before the dog’s laughing attack can reduce your hit points!”

“It’s worth a shot, I guess.” Shinya started a new game. Mishima watched his face as he played. Shinya missed the first duck and the dog popped up, laughing at him. A sudden look of determination appeared in Shinya’s eyes, and on his third shot, he downed the next duck.

“You did it!”

Mishima waited for a response from Shinya, but nothing came. Shinya remained focused on the game. It took two shots to get the next duck. After that, Shinya was taking them all down in one shot. Within moments, Shinya Oda had gone from being a complete noob to a Duck Hunt master. He got through ten rounds of the game. Starting in the eleventh, he pointed his gun away from the cabinet and just kept pulling the trigger, missing on purpose until he got a game over.

“You don’t want to continue?” Mishima asked.

“Nah, I’m good.” Shinya put down the light gun and walked out of the arcade. He gestured with his hand for Mishima to follow him. “Now I know I can beat the game, so I’m done with it. I don’t really find it all that fun.”

“Well, that makes sense. Must be nice to be sure of yourself like that.” Mishima fast walked to catch up to Shinya. “But I guess that’s what makes you the king.”

“So you know what I am…” Shinya stopped outside the arcade and eyed Mishima suspiciously. “But what are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I finally find a shooting game I can’t beat and then you show up to coach me.” Shinya held his pointed finger in Mishima’s face. “Are you some kind of secret arcade warrior!? Is this like some kind of anime where there’s a whole new world of skilled people I never knew about and you’re here to bring me to the next level?”

“Sorry, nothing like that. I’m just a guy who happened to be passing by.” Mishima held up the shopping bag from the computer store as proof. “That kind of fantastic thing you’re describing doesn’t really exist. Not since the Phantom Thieves went away, at least.”

“Yeah, that sucks. The Phantom Thieves were the best.” Shinya looked down at the ground and started mumbling. “I wonder what that guy's up to...”

“Huh? Who are you talking about?”

“Oh, uh, just thinking out loud.” Shinya walked over to a vending machine and bought a Dr. Salt NEO. Mishima followed him. “So, you’re a Phanboy too?”

“Kind of.” Mishima’s eyes widened. “Oh man! I just realized! I never introduced myself, did I? It must be really weird talking to somebody who knows who you are but you don’t know who they are, huh?”

“Kinda.” Shinya started drinking his soda.

“My name’s Yuuki Mishima.”

“What!?” Shinya spit out a mouthful of soda. “‘Yuuki Mishima’!? Like the ‘Yuuki Mishima’ who makes ‘Specters of Justice’, the Phantom Thieves web documentary!?”

“You watch it?”

“Yeah!” Shinya wiped the leftover soda from his mouth with his sleeve. “Your voice sounds a little different from the videos, though.”

“I pitch it down a bit.” Mishima rubbed the back of his head. “My natural voice isn’t well-suited for the dramatic effect I’m going for.”

“Oh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“So, how does an elementary schooler become a Phanboy? I thought most of us were teenagers.”

“Seriously?” Shinya leaned against the soda machine. “Lots of kids liked the Phantom Thieves. They were heroes of justice, fighting bad guys the world didn’t even know about! Everybody knows some jerk like that.”

“I see.” Mishima frowned at Shinya, thinking back to Kamoshida’s abuse of the volleyball team. “Do you have somebody making your life harder that you can’t tell anybody about?”

“Not anymore.” Shinya grinned at Mishima. “The Phantom Thieves took care of that.”

“What!?” Mishima dropped his bag in shock. He gritted his teeth as he bent over to pick it up. “What kind of lowlife was targeting elementary schoolers!?”

“It wasn’t like that. It was a personal problem.” Shinya said. “It was my mom.”

“That’s terrible!” 

“Yeah. They stole my mom’s heart.“

“Your own mother? Really?” Mishima shook the box containing his new computer fan a bit. It didn’t sound like anything was broken. “Was she abusing you or something?”

“Nah. She just got kind of mean once my dad left us. Needed to remember what matters in life.”

“That doesn’t sound like the kind of thing the Phantom Thieves would usually deal with.” Mishima knew that Ren didn’t just focus on the requests Mishima told him about, but most of the stories he’d heard still seemed to line up with the thieves fighting criminals, like a cult leader in Shinjuku.

“Well…” Shinya leaned forward and started whispering. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course” Mishima whispered back.

“I know a guy who was one of the- I mean, he knew how to contact the Phantom Thieves.”

“Who?” The circle of people who knew the true identities of the thieves was a small one. If there was anybody else like Mishima out there, he wanted to meet them. They might be able to provide him with some more information for his documentary.

“He’s a high schooler. A really cool guy who likes to help people. But that’s all I’m saying about it.”

“Uh-huh…” Mishima chuckled a bit. “This guy, does he have messy black hair? Maybe he used to wear fake glasses but now he doesn’t anymore? Goes to Shujin Academy?”

“You know Ren!?” Shinya almost broke his whisper.

“Yeah. I know _all_ about Amamiya.”

“Me too.”

“Oh yeah? How’d you figure it out?”

“I mean, it was kind of obvious.” Shinya started laughing. “I don’t know how more people haven’t figured it out. He’s not great at hiding it.”

“Well, it’s probably because most people don’t talk to him.”

“Really? I figured a guy like that’d have tons of friends.”

“It’s… a long story.” Mishima felt a pit in his stomach. It’d been over a year since he’d leaked Ren's convict status online. Ren had forgiven him and now even his name had been cleared, but Mishima still wasn’t sure if he’d ever stop feeling guilty about it.

“I got time” Shinya said.

“Well, you’re his friend, so I guess you should know. It all started last March…”

* * *

Ren sunk his teeth into a Big Bang Burger. The ecstatic moan he let out as the beef made contact with his tongue could be heard throughout the whole restaurant.

“Damn, dude.” Ryuji stared at Ren awkwardly. “I’ve never seen anybody enjoy a burger that much.”

“Let him have this, Ryuji.” Ann grinned at the voracious boy across the table from her. “This is the first meal he’s had in a week where he hasn’t had to worry about his lungs going berserk.”

“Plus you’re always loud when you’re eating, so you really don’t have the right to say anything” Futaba added.

“Guys, this burger is amazing” Ren said between bites. “It tastes like freedom.”

“You shoulda gotten one of those challenge burgers” Ryuji said.

“I would have, but Dr. Takemi said I should still take it easy for a few days.”

“And Makoto made us promise not to let him do that” Ann added.

“That’s right!” Futaba threw her fists up in the air. “We’re her spies!”

“Wow, really steppin’ out of your comfort zone, huh Futaba?” Ryuji asked sarcastically. Ren started snickering.

“How long are you guys gonna hold that over me!?”

Ren was about to answer, but he felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out to see a text from Shinya.

> Shinya: Why didn’t you ever tell me about that convict stuff!?
> 
> Ren: What are you talking about?
> 
> Shinya: I’m talking about you and that Shido guy! You never brought it up all the times we hung out!
> 
> Ren: How did you find out about that?
> 
> Shinya: Mishima told me.
> 
> Ren: What are you doing with Mishima?
> 
> Shinya: He helped me with something at the arcade. He’s a cool guy.

_“That’s a new one”_ Ren thought.

> Ren: Well, that’s nice, I guess. I’m glad you two are hitting it off.
> 
> Shinya: Yeah, he knows a lot of stuff. He’s gonna show me how to fish this weekend.
> 
> Ren: Have fun.

Ren put down his phone, complete confusion on his face. Ryuji waved his hand in front of him.

“Uh, dude, you okay? That burger sittin’ with you?”

“I’m fine, just…” Ren slumped over in his chair. “I don’t know what reality is anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was surprised to see how much demand there was for Shinya. So as thanks to you folks for all the support you've given this story, I bashed a few braincells together until I came up with a little something to include him. "Confidant Roulette" is now in the top ten most-read P5 stories on this website. Seriously, thank you.
> 
> There will be one final conclusion chapter.


	10. Life Will Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren reconvenes with his Confidants.

** Monday: **

Ren's eyes were locked with Dr. Takemi’s. Well, not her actual eyes. Dr. Takemi had her back to turned to him as he sat on the exam table, going through some files of hers. But the eyes of her sketched portrait were looking right at him.

“You know,” Ren said, “when most people have framed pictures of themselves, it usually shows them with other people.”

“What can I say? I’m fond of it.” Ren couldn’t see it, but he was sure the doctor had a smirk on her face. “Your friend really is talented. He’s a human dumpster fire when it comes to taking care of himself, but at least all that negligence resulted in something worthwhile.”

“I take it I should keep that comment to myself, lest he be encouraged to keep up his substandard lifestyle?”

“That won’t be a problem.” Takemi got up and opened a cabinet. “I’m pretty sure the medicine I’m trying today will wipe out the last few minutes of your memory. But that’s a small trade for progress.”

“Yikes.” Ren felt a shiver run up his spine. “I bet it tastes awful too, huh?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” Takemi turned around, holding a large syringe filled with a dark green liquid. “Roll up your sleeve, guinea pig.”

* * *

**Tuesday:**

Yoshida’s crowd was a bit bigger than usual. To Ren's surprise, there were a lot of young people. Yoshida’s supporters trended younger, but there were kids his age and even younger showing up to support him, even though they couldn’t vote. Ren was kind of confused by the signs some of them were holding though. “Toranosuke Yoshida Toranosuke Yoshida”. It was just his name twice. He decided to ask about it after the rally.

“Ah yes, that.” Yoshida grinned sheepishly. “To tell you the truth, it is a little embarassing. I tried to Google my name to see if there were any new news articles about my campaign, but failed to realize I was typing into Twitter. The tweet had my display name followed by the content of my post, my real name. Many people found it humorous, and now it’s become what I believe is called a ‘may-may’.”

“You mean ‘meme’” Ren said.

“Ah, is that how it’s pronounced? Thank you for correcting me.”

“It really seems like your online presence is earning you a lot of supporters.”

“It is, but I must also confess that I am a bit concerned by it.” Yoshida looked at Ren with worry. “Tell me, have you ever heard of an ‘Internet troll’?”

“Don’t worry about those guys.” Ren shook his head and shrugged. “People will be jerks. You’ve just got to ignore them.”

“Yes, the webmaster for my new website told me as much. I believe he phrased it as ‘not feeding them’. But they’re not my concern.”

“Then what is?”

“Well, I received a message telling me not to worry about the trolls anymore, and that they would be leaving me alone from now on. When I tried to reply to this person, I could not reach them. I believe they were some manner of hacker.”

“Uh-huh.” Ren raised an eyebrow. “And did this hacker have a name?”

“He called himself ‘Alibaba’. Tell me, should I be worried about this? I understand hackers have dubious morality. I fear being associated with such a person could have a negative impact on my campaign.”

“I promise you that you have nothing to worry about.” Ren had to contain his laughter. Although he’d never thought of it in such terms, Futaba _was_ a pretty dubious person when you got down to it. "It’s probably just some nutty fan. I’m sure they won’t continue to bug you.”

“I hope you’re right, Ren.”

“I know I am.” Ren handed Yoshida back his sign. “See you next week, Tora-San.”

Ren pulled out his phone and dialed Futaba’s number, ready to chastise her.

* * *

**Wednesday:**

“Wait, don’t Desert Eagles come with built-in scopes?”

“What?” Iwai shelved the replica pistol and gave Ren a strange look. “No. Handguns don’t just have scopes built into ‘em. Where’d ya get an idea like that?”

“I don’t know. Isn’t it a military gun or something?” Ren looked at Iwai in confusion. “I thought soldiers needed to shoot each other from a distance.”

“I thought you were smarter’n this.” Iwai shook his head. “You don’t use your sidearm on an open battlefield. You use a proper ranged weapon, like a combat rifle. You gotta be able to fire a lotta bullets at a lotta guys quick.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” Ren stretched out his back. “You learn something new every day.”

“You’re s’posed to already know this stuff” Iwai grumbled. “Are you sure that Okumura girl can’t come back to work here?”

“Sorry, you’re stuck with me. Haru’s focusing on her cafe.”

“What a waste of expertise.”

* * *

**Thursday:**

Ren dipped a paint-roller into a bucket of sky-blue paint and started running it along the walls of Chihaya’s shop. His hot breath bounced back against his face under the paper mask he was wearing, but it was preferable to huffing paint fumes.

“This is a pretty light color, Chihaya-San. Wouldn’t a midnight blue be better? Add an air of mystique to this place?”

“Ann-San and I considered it.” Chihaya was painting the opposite wall. “But in the end, we decided that the parlor should be themed around the idea of the customer having a bright future, instead of the idea of me as somebody with incredible powers.”

“But you _do_ have incredible powers.”

“I’m supposed to be providing a service.” Chihaya wiped the sweat from her brow. “My old business model was about Chihaya Mifune being this all-knowing seer. I don’t want to sell that image anymore. Ann-San says that cheerful colors will help with that. I wanted something purple, but she said it would be bad for my dress to blend in with the walls.”

“She’s right. It wouldn’t help your new image if you were a floating head.” Ren dipped the paint roller into the bucket again. “Still, isn’t this kind of a bright color to have the whole store covered in? It might hurt peoples’ eyes a bit.”

“I intend to decorate the walls” Chihaya replied. “I’m also thinking of putting up some kind of mural. Ann-San told me you know an artist I can talk to about that.”

“Yusuke? Painting a mural in a psychic shop?” Ren scratched his chin, getting a bit of paint on it. “Yeah, he’d probably be into it. You can pay him though, right?”

“Well, I don’t have a lot of money in my budget at the moment, but Ann-San said he would take payment in food.” Chihaya stopped painting for a moment, looking at Ren with uncertainty. “I cannot help but feel like I would be taking advantage of him, though. Purchasing somebody a meal instead of giving them proper financial compensation feels unethical.”

“Trust me, with Yusuke, it’s for the best.” Ren resumed painting. “If other people don’t feed him, he won’t eat.”

“He sounds like an odd character. You know such interesting people, Ren-San.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

* * *

Friday:

“And so, the Togo Kingdom is victorious again! Praise the Golden Dragon!”

“‘Golden Dragon’?” Ren looked up from the shogi board at the ecstatic victor. “That’s a new addition to your shogi lore.”

“It’s my new good luck charm.” Hifumi took out her cell phone. There was a small yellow dragon charm attached to it. “I got it from a gachapon machine.”

“I didn’t know you collected things like that.” Come to think of it, Ren had known Hifumi for a while, but they rarely talked about things other than shogi. She didn’t seem to have many interests outside of the game.

“Ryuji convinced me to try it. I was quite pleased with the result.” Hifumi’s eyes lingered on the dragon fondly.

“You really enjoyed your time at the arcade, huh?”

“Very much so.” Hifumi looked back up at Ren, but she was fiddling with the dragon in her hand. “Most of my life has been dedicated solely to the pursuit of shogi. And it’s not that I feel that it was time wasted or that I’d like to stop, but I think it’s important to expand my horizons, isn’t it?”

“Totally.” Ren picked up one of the lancer pieces. “I’ve gotten into a lot of cool stuff since coming to Tokyo. I really feel like it’s helped enrich me as a person. Like, practicing shogi with you. I’m never gonna go pro like you are, but I think it’s made me a sharper person.”

“That’s good to hear.” Hifumi began setting up the board for another game. “I suppose it’s going to take me a bit more time to get fully out of my comfort zone. The next non-shogi plan I have is seeing a movie with Ryuji, but it’s a samurai film, so I don’t suppose that’s far enough outside of my interests.”

“You’re hanging out with Ryuji again?”

“He’s a very exciting person. I enjoy his company.” Hifumi put her phone away, rolling the dragon charm between her fingertips one last time. “He’s also asked me to teach him shogi.”

“Really?” Ren began setting up his side of the board. “That’s not really Ryuji’s kind of thing.”

“He says it would be something for him to do with his mother.”

“Well, that checks out.” Ren made a mental note to grill Ryuji about this later.

* * *

**Saturday:**

Ren was cleaning a tabletop when Ohya stepped into Crossroads.

“Lala-Chan! I hope you’ve got a bunch of clean glasses, because I’m gonna be ordering a lot of drinks!”

“I’m afraid we’re fresh out, Ichiko-Chan.” Lala smirked at Ohya. “Lucky for you, I have a trough in the back I can fill with booze. Or is that too little to get you started for the night?”

“Can the sass! I’m celebrating tonight!”

“Aren’t you celebrating most nights?” Ren asked.

“You can it too! You should be celebrating with me!” Ohya grinned at Ren. “Your girlfriend just got me a big scoop!”

“What, the professor thing?”

“Please tell me you didn’t actually send that sweet girl into the lion’s den to get sexually harassed by some old man” Lala said.

“No worries, Lala-Chan!” Ohya gave a big thumbs up. “She just found me a couple girls willing to point fingers, and their info lines up with the rumors I’ve heard. I’m finally getting somewhere with this article!”

“That’s weird.” Ren furrowed his brow. “Makoto hasn’t mentioned anything about it to me yet.”

“Don’t worry, lover boy. That’s on me.” Ohya sat down at the bar. “I asked her to keep the investigation under wraps until the article’s published.”

“Well, that makes sense, I guess. It’s not like she’ll be able to tell me about every case she’s on once she becomes a cop.”

“My goodness, that’s some long-term thinking, young man” Lala teased.

“Yeah kid, are you saving up for a ring yet?” Ohya gave Ren a big grin. “A girl like that deserves the best rock you can find!”

“Don’t you have a liver to kill?” Ren glared at Ohya.

“I do! Thanks for reminding me!” Ohya turned around on her bar stool. “Lala-Chan! Beers! Multiple!”

* * *

**Sunday:**

Ren was sleeping in after a long night at Crossroads. He was woken by his phone pinging.

It was an image message from Mishima. Ren opened it to see Mishima and Shinya at the fishing pond, holding a large golden fish.

_“I guess this is my life now”_ Ren thought.

He decided to go back to sleep. He could deal with that realization in full later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally wrapped this one up! And it only took, what, three weeks?
> 
> Thanks to everybody who's been following this. It's crazy to me how great the reception's been. Especially some people going as far as to list it on the P5 fanfic recs page on TVTropes. I really thought I'd be tired of P5 fanfic by now, but I don't see myself stopping anytime soon. I'm not entirely sure which idea I'm gonna write next, but I'm gonna try and get something out before Anime Expo starts.


	11. Side Story: Miscarriage of Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sae and Akechi meet for the first time since his betrayal. It's their last interaction before the collapse of Shido's Palace and the boy's disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. Been a long time on this. Always bugged me I never got to those last couple Confidants, so I decided to bring it back.

December 10th, 2016

What decides the skills somebody’s Persona will have? Is there some intrinsic value to Ryuji Sakamoto’s character that gives him the power of lightning when the supernatural is applied? Were Yusuke Kitagawa’s powers of ice a reflection of a certain detachment he felt from the world? And if so, why did Futaba Sakura, arguably the most isolated of all the Phantom Thieves, manifest no such power? For Ann Takamaki and Makoto Niijima to both have healing skills made sense, there was a giving, nurturing quality to both of them. But then why did Morgana, a creature who by all accounts had very little in the way of humility or a protective instinct, also have such power?

_“And why don’t I?”_

This was the question that ran through Goro Akechi’s mind as he dragged himself through a dark alley with a bullet wound in his stomach. He had the powers of light and dark at his command, but no way to heal himself. It had been a close call on Shido’s ship. After putting that wall between himself and the Phantom Thieves, he successfully managed to shoot his cognitive clone in the head, but not before taking a bullet in his center himself. Akechi had to run from pursuing Shadows after that, and wound up jumping off the side of the ship, falling into the water below. Had it not been for his enhanced physical capabilities in the Metaverse, he likely would have died upon impact. Thankfully, he had just enough of his unnatural cognitive strength left to survive hitting the water, even with the gunshot wound. Akechi lost his phone in the fall, but as he was swept away by the waves, he eventually found himself pushed to the very edge of the ocean that Shido’s Palace sailed on, winding up back in the real world.

Akechi wound up a good distance away from the Diet Building, but he knew where he was when he came to. It was very late at night, and the streets were mostly empty, but Akechi was right around the corner from Sae and Makoto’s apartment. He knew that the Niijima sisters would not be happy to see him, but it was the only real option he had. If Akechi let himself be discovered publicly, Shido’s people could have him assassinated in the hospital and make it look like an accident. Makoto would probably be pissed at him for trying to kill her boyfriend repeatedly, and Sae’s career had practically been ruined by Akechi, but he still had faith that they’d help him. After all, the Phantom Thieves had begun to open themselves up to him right before his big sacrifice, and for all his lies and betrayal, Akechi and Sae had worked together a long time, and he believed that deep down there may have been some kind of affection considering all the times she’d treated him to sushi.

And as luck would have it, Sae was getting home, late as usual. He could see her in the distance, and crawled towards her, crying out as loudly as he could.

“Sae-San…”

Even with the most powerful breath he could put into it, Akechi’s yell was barely a whimper. But in the dead of night, it was just enough to catch the silver-haired prosecutor’s attention. She stopped walking towards her building and looked in the direction the cry came from.

“Sae-San… Over here…”

Sae walked towards Akechi and stopped right in front of him, looking down at his bleeding, battered form. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Barely able to keep his neck craned up enough to look at her, Akechi reached out to grab Sae’s ankle.

“Sae-San… I need… I need-“

Akechi’s plea was cut off by the sensation of Sae’s heel driving into the back of his neck. It was the last thing he would ever experience.

* * *

Sadayo Kawakami didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t know why she was in her maid outfit again now that she’d quit her job as a 'health service provider'. She didn’t know why she had brought her full arsenal of cleaning tools and supplies to a love hotel in Kabukicho. She didn’t know how the deep-voiced woman on the phone knew how to reach her or why she knew to call her “Becky” or why she was told to sneak in a hacksaw. What she did know was that for as seedy as this situation was, she couldn’t ignore it on the off chance that the mysterious caller was telling the truth.

_“Hello, ‘Becky’. If you want to protect your favorite transfer student, you’ll have to take on your dirtiest job yet.”_

Ren was precious to Kawakami. After all he had done for her, there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to ensure his safety. She knew that right now his Phantom Thief activities were higher-risk than ever before, to the point where he actually had to fake his own death just to stay ahead of his enemies. And if Ren was willing to do that to change hearts, including the hearts of the people who’d taken advantage of her for years and made her life a living hell, the least Kawakami could do was fulfill this shady request if it meant helping her favorite student.

Kawakami went up to the third floor, to room 301 as instructed. She knocked on the door. After a few seconds, she could hear a body pressing up against the other side of the door.

“Who is it?” A woman’s voice asked.

“Good evening, Master!” Kawakami was a little out of practice with the Becky voice, but it was easy enough to slide back into. “Becky is here as requested for any needs you might have! Meow!  ♥︎ ”

“Come in.”

The door opened, but Kawakami couldn’t see anybody. She pushed her cart into the room. It was a large room with heart-shaped everything. Heart-shaped bed, heart-shaped armoire, heart-shaped jacuzzi in the corner of the room, even hearts on the wallpaper. The door closed behind Kawakami and she heard the sound of a lock clicking. She turned around to see a familiar woman, both from Shujin and from the newspaper.

“Prosecutor Niijima!?” Kawakami lost the Becky voice instantly, her heart racing a mile a minute. Kawakami didn’t know what this woman’s purpose was, but it couldn’t be good. She mentioned Ren on the phone. She worked for the government, and the government had been after Ren, so did they know he was still alive? Were they using Kawakami to get to Ren? Or was Ren’s name just bait for her, and they wanted to nail her for prostitution? No, wait, that couldn’t be it. Technically, the act of being a prostitute wasn’t illegal, just paying one. But then again, even in Tokyo, prostitutes had to be registered in certain secure facilities, and Kawakami never had been. And even though technically she wasn’t a prostitute, her ‘health services’ definitely weren’t all on the up and up.

“Quiet” Sae murmured. “Don’t say my name.”

“Wh-what do you want with me!?”

“First, I want you to be QUIET.” Sae clamped her hand over Kawakami’s mouth, although it wasn’t really necessary. The taller woman had a dominating aura that was making her too afraid to speak. “You’re not in trouble. I called you here because I need your help cleaning up something.”

“Clean what?” Kawakami asked. Or, at least she tried to ask. Sae’s hand remained on top of her mouth. Sae moved behind Kawakami and started leading her towards the jacuzzi, which had a large suitcase sitting next to it.

“My apologies for this bizarre manhandling, but I need to maintain my hold on you for another moment at least.” Sae pointed to the suitcase with her free hand. “Open it, and try your best to remain quiet.”

Kawakami knelt down, Sae kneeling behind her, hand still covering her mouth. She opened the suitcase slowly, very wary of whatever this situation she found herself in was. When the zipper was fully undone, she pulled the top flap aside to see a blood-covered, folded-up teenage boy inside. She immediately let out a scream, which was muffled by Sae’s hand. As she did so, Sae reached into her pocket and pulled out a remote control. She pressed a button and some bass-heavy music started blasting from a stereo on the other side of the room, presumably tunes to get lovers in the mood.

“I realize what a shock this is, but I need you to calm down.” Sae tightened her grip on Kawakami’s face. “Can you do that, Becky?”

Kawakami nodded. Sae’s hand lingered for a moment as she scanned Kawakami with her eyes to see if she was lying. Once Sae seemed satisfied, she removed her hand.

“What’s going on here!?” Kawakami frantically whispered. “Who’s-“

“An enemy of your student.” Sae walked over to the cart Kawakami had brought and pulled out a pair of latex gloves, putting them on. “Though you may recognize him as Goro Akechi.”

“Akechi!?” Kawakami looked at the body. Now that she got a better view, it was indeed the famous teenage detective. “I don’t understand, Prosecutor-“

“No names” Sae said.

“I don’t understand, Master.” Kawakami was in no mood to do the Becky voice, but she figured it was at least good enough to refer to Becky’s speech patterns for a codename, such as it was. “What’s going on here!?”

“I’ve called you here to help me dispose of his body.”

“What!?”

“Let me put this as simply as I can.” Sae sat down on the bed, tossing Kawakami another pair of gloves. “You know what the transfer student and his friends have been up to in their spare time, yes?”

“You mean…” Kawakami mouthed the words ‘Phantom Thieves’. Sae nodded.

“They have special abilities that allow them to do so. Akechi has— or rather, had— the same abilities. And he used them to cause the mental shutdowns you heard about on the news.”

“The mental shutdowns?” Kawakami stared at Akechi’s corpse again. She was surprisingly calm looking at the dead body of a teenage boy, though she couldn’t say why. Maybe she was still in shock. “You mean, the train accidents, Kunikazu Okumura-“

“And Principal Kobayakawa, yes.”

“The principal too!?” Kawakami looked back at Sae. “But the police said-“

“There are high-ranking government officials who have worked with Akechi to orchestrate all of it and cover their tracks. For your safety, I won’t tell you their names, but I can tell you that our young friends are currently working to change the heart of their leader. Goro Akechi posed a great threat to them. He already nearly succeeded in assassinating your student the first time.”

“So, when the news announced the suicide…”

“That’s right. Attempted murder at the hands of Akechi. But he was tricked.” Sae scowled at the cadaver in the suitcase. “Still, I couldn’t take any chances. That boy was a deceitful monster responsible for so much misery and pain, but I have no way to prove it and prosecute him properly. So when he appeared to me on the edge of death, I decided to push him over it.”

“And now you want me to help you dispose of the body.”

“Yes.” Sae stood up. “Goro Akechi needs to disappear completely. If he’s found, his death could make his masters realize that the man they thought was dead isn’t, which would put a lot of good people in danger. Including people you care about. I realize I’m asking a lot here, but-“

“I’ll do it.”

“You will?” Sae’s cool composure finally broke, her eyes widening in surprise. “Just like that?”

“I’ll do anything for my students.” Kawakami looked Sae straight in the eyes, her own eyes filled with determination. “Especially that one.”

* * *

The next couple hours involved tarps laid around the empty jacuzzi, a hacksaw, garbage bags, and a lot of bleach and disinfectant. The first part of the dirty deed involved the women dividing the body into smaller pieces, each getting placed in its own garbage bag. By the end, there were a dozen bags stuffed in total. Extensive cleaning happened during the whole process, letting fluids fall into the jacuzzi to be washed down the drain. When the two were done, the tub was thoroughly scrubbed and liberal amounts of air freshener had been used. They smuggled an equal amount of pieces out each in the suitcase and cleaning cart, and drove off in their cars to opposite sides of the city limits. Remote locations were driven to outside of Tokyo, places chosen on a map with minimal people passing through, and one bag was buried deep in each spot a little off the beaten path. By the time Kawakami got home, she had one more task to complete: She snuck into the boiler room in the basement, throwing the blood-soaked tarps and ruined school uniform in the old boiler, the raging fire within disposing of the last evidence on Kawakami’s person.

By the time she finally made it up to her apartment and crashed onto her bed, the sun had risen. She was glad it wasn't a school day. But before she could drift off to sleep, Kawakami was stirred by a knocking on her door. Grumpily, she rose from her bed and shambled to the door. When she opened it, Sae was standing there. Before Kawakami could say anything, Sae pushed her way into the apartment and shut the door behind her.

“Is it done?” Sae asked.

“Uh-huh.” Kawakami trudged back to the bed and collapsed on it, staring up at the ceiling. “I still can’t believe we did that.”

“You may find this hard to swallow, but I can’t either.” Sae sat down next to Kawakami, all of her usual poise gone, the events of the previous evening having drained her completely. “I could hardly believe it while I was doing it. From the moment I broke his neck, it was almost as if I was watching somebody else. Somebody who was willing to do reprehensible things that go against everything I’ve stood for my entire life.”

“So what now?” Kawakami tilted her head up towards Sae.

“I don’t know.” Sae let herself fall back, lying down next to Kawakami on the bed. “Now I suppose I just live quietly with the guilt for the rest of my life.”

“You did the right thing though, didn’t you?” Kawakami asked. “WE did the right thing… right?”

“I…” Sae turned her head to look at Kawakami. Their faces were mere inches apart. “I can’t answer that. For the first time in years, I’m in completely uncharted waters. I don’t know what’s next.”

“I know what you mean.” Kawakami let her lips curl up into a tired smile. “My life has changed so rapidly over the past few months. It’s like I’m caught in some crazy whirlwind, and anything could happen next. I just keep getting shoved from one wild change to the next.”

“I find myself in a similar position.” Sae closed her eyes and yawned. “It’s frustrating.”

“Yes, it is.” Kawakami’s hot breath was blowing into Sae’s face as she spoke. “You know, just once, I’d like to be the one in control of the change. Just do something crazy entirely by my own actions, nobody else’s.”

Sae didn’t respond. She just lay there, eyes closed, letting the world and the horrible things she’d done all fall away. In this split second, there was no stress. No worries about her being a murderer, or her sister’s future, or her own career. Just an odd serenity that came from being totally lost, a voidness of all sensation except the soft bedding beneath her.

And then there was another softness. Hot and wet, pressed against her lips. Sae’s eyes shot open to find the teacher still dressed in a maid outfit had initiated a kiss between the two of them. She had no idea how to respond.

And then an excruciating pain shot through her body. Sae rolled away from Kawakami and off the bed, howling in agony.

“Prosecutor Niijima!” Kawakami rolled onto all fours, crawling towards the edge of the bed. “Are you ok!? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- AAAH!”

As Kawakami peeked over the bed, she couldn’t believe her eyes. She knew that Sae Niijima was tall, but she wasn’t THAT tall, was she? Where before the prosecutor's height had been about six feet, now her entire body had grown to an inhuman size, about ten feet. This estimation was confirmed as Sae slowly rose to her feet, now towering over Kawakami, her body still steadily growing.

“What’s going on!?” Kawakami screamed.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Sae’s voice boomed, having grown deeper. Her head hit the ceiling, and she hunched over, stumbling around in pain.

“What do I do!? WHAT DO I DO!?”

“I… I…”

Sae roared as she grew too big for the apartment, tumbling into the wall and crashing through it like a wrecking ball. She fell to the street below, and although it was a three story drop, to her continually-growing frame, the fall wasn’t that bad. Pedestrians ran screaming as Sae rose to her feet again, her body wracked with pain. As Sae’s height began to eclipse the buildings around her, she yelled furiously, two short words emanating from her mouth and echoing all throughout the city.

**“APRIL FOOL’S!”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hureno: It's a crack chapter, so anything goes... Well, not anything, like ya can't have Sae go from 6'2" to 24'5".
> 
> Me: CHALLENGE ACCEPTED
> 
> If you're wondering, yes, I have had this planned since June.
> 
> Obviously, this is not canon.
> 
> Also, this is not me hinting at a Sae/Kawakami relationship that will happen later in my fics. So don't expect anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Update: This fic has been changed to use Ren's canon name.


End file.
